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The Rector was talking about the weather, letting his yellowish eyes wander sleepily and placidly over the sea and down the coast. Along the green horizon line some pointed sails dotted the sky like wings of doves that might have been drinking off there. The shore at this point receded, forming a bight in the land, with masses of green and clusters of white cottages alternating along the coast.
But no one could be got to see, much less to say, that Wren was in the slightest degree connected with the temporary disappearance of the watch. Yet by this time Plume had some such theory of his own. Sometime during the previous night, along toward morning, he had sleepily asked his wife, who was softly moving about the room, to give him a little water.
When Bandy-legs dug his elbow into the side of his sleeping chum, and whispered these words in his ear, naturally enough the said Owen could not help but awaken. "What ails you?" he asked sleepily; and even Steve stirred as though the sound of their voices had aroused him. "My trap's sprung!" was the rather surprising information Bandy-legs vouchsafed in return.
"But I've had Harold bring some blankets here and spread them on the floor," she objected. "I can go to sleep there, when I'm tired." "And I can go to sleep there right now." With his strong arms he half-lifted her and laid her in his warm place. She yielded to his strength, sleepily and gratefully, and he drew the blankets about her shoulders.
He found her there when he came in, and her two sons with her; the younger was sleepily putting away some school-books, and the elder seemed to have been helping him with his lessons.
"Your premiss is indisputable, but what do you deduce from this?" Manuel smiled slowly and sleepily. "I deduce, sir, that you, also, who have not ever been dead, cannot possibly be certain as to what happens when one is dead. And so I shall stick to my own opinion about the life to come." "But your opinion is absurd, on the face of it."
So, when a rattling noise came to his ear on his first morning at Baldpate Inn, Mr. Magee breathed sleepily from the covers: "Good morning, Geoffrey." But no cheery voice replied in terms of sun, wind, or rain. Surprised, Mr. Magee sat up in bed. About him, the maple-wood furniture of suite seven stood shivering in the chill of a December morning.
Stage driver has been blazing it all round town " "Stage driver's a liar," emphatically declared Brydges. "Been trying to get the news for an hour; the wires are cut. Can't get 'em by phone. Think I'll send a man up to-night with a photographer." "Oh, I wouldn't," drawled Bat sleepily. "It isn't worth it. I've just come down. Whole row's over. You can't get a dub in the Valley to open his mouth.
With a sidelong glance, he caught the starry light in her eyes as she looked up at him: there seemed more than the mere reflection of passing street lamps. "A wonderful night: I'm glad, so glad, not sorry," was her dreamy response. She lapsed into silence as the somnolent drone of the motor and the whirr of the wheels caused the tired eyes to close sleepily.
Then there's another kind of house that's mighty nice and substantial-looking, with shingles, in a nice brown stain, instead of clapboards seen some in Minneapolis. You're way off your base when you say I only like one kind of house!" Uncle Whittier and Aunt Bessie came in one evening when Carol was sleepily advocating a rose-garden cottage.
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