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"Excellent idea delighted to hear it, I'm sure," replies Will, somewhat less interested in the information than in the delicately flavoured Madeira he is lovingly sipping. "Who's the lady?" "I don't know, yet," is John Ingerfield's answer. His friend glances slyly at him over his glass, not sure whether he is expected to be amused or sympathetically helpful. "I want you to find one for me."
'I hardly wonder at your indifference to the paltry politics of the Province, observed the gentleman from the old country, sipping his tea loftily. 'I wish Mr. Hiram Holt heard that speech, sir, said Robert. 'To him Canada is more important than Great Britain by so much as it is larger. 'The citizen of Monaco has similar delusions as to the importance of his petty Principality, rejoined Mr.
And throwing back his head, with a dreamy expression in his eyes, he moved his protruding jaw covered with reddish hair, with a voluptuous look, as though he were sipping a glass of his sweet native Tokay. He had been in Madrid for a month, working every morning in the Museo. His copy of Las Meninas was almost finished.
I caught a glimpse as I went by of the blue and gold of some of my comrades, amid the swarm of dark infantry coats and the light green of the Guides. There they sat, sipping their wine and smoking their cigars, little dreaming what their comrade had on hand. One of them, the chief of my squadron, caught sight of me in the lamplight, and came shouting after me into the street.
A glow came over him as he sat down. The waiter appeared. Gerald glanced at the glasses of the other two. Birkin was drinking something green, Miss Darrington had a small liqueur glass that was empty save for a tiny drop. 'Won't you have some more ? 'Brandy, she said, sipping her last drop and putting down the glass. The waiter disappeared. 'No, she said to Birkin. 'He doesn't know I'm back.
It seemed only the other day that he had been drinking my entrance into partnership; and here we were, the same three, sipping good luck to my exit from it! I'm afraid our second ceremony was on both sides the heartier of the two. "I must decide now where I am to start," I remarked. "What I want is some nice little town where all the people are rich and ill."
So, at half-past eight I was sipping my coffee in the aforesaid hostelry, with a London newspaper before me, which was unusually interesting, and some German journals, which, 'in hate of a wrong not theirs', were one and all seething with rancorous Anglophobia. At nine I was in the Jewish quarter, striking bargains in an infamous marine slop-shop.
The sun alone came thither, weltering in the meadows in a sheet of gold, threading the paths with the frolicsome scamper of its beams, letting its fine-spun, flaming locks droop through the trees, sipping from the springs with amber lips that thrilled the water.
It was yet early when Rand and Gaudylock entered, and neither the mail-bag, nor many habitués of the place had arrived. The room was quiet and not over brightly lit by the declining sun and the flare of a great, crackling fire. There were a number of tables and a few shadowy figures sipping chocolate, wine, or punch.
It was a plunge back into sanity and normal life again, drowning those ghosts of vague foreboding and anxieties which had kept such unpleasant vigil with her, and when the Turkish girl returned with a tray, Arlee was able to sit and eat breakfast with a trace of amusement at the oddity of the affair sipping coffee in this Parisian boudoir overlooking an Egyptian garden.
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