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"You are a pair of superstitious old women," said I, digging my hands into my pockets; "you swallow every nursery tale that is invented." "What of it?" said Le Bihan sulkily; "there's more truth than lies in most of 'em." "Oh!" I sneered, "does the Mayor of St. Gildas and St. Julien believe in the loup-garou?" "No, not in the loup-garou." "In what, then Jeanne-la-Flamme?"
"You are a brute, an infernal brute, to treat a woman that way." "Perhaps you'd like to make a fuss about it," sneered the conductor. Philip's reply was a blow, given so suddenly and planted so squarely in the conductor's face, that it sent him reeling over a fat passenger, who was looking up in mild wonder that any one should dare to dispute with a conductor, and against the side of the car.
How numerous these adverse criticisms were, may best be inferred from the frequency with which Schumann defended Chopin in his musical paper and sneered at his detractors.
"And for an excellent reason," sneered Milburgh. "Here!" It was the girl's voice, surprisingly clear and steady. Her shaking hands held the paper she had taken from the wallet and she thrust it toward the detective. "There is a reason," she said in a low voice. "But it is not the reason you suggest." Milburgh had gone too far.
"Are you going to set up for a soldier-saint, too?" sneered Ben, turning to the old man. "I'm no saint, but I've larned better than to gamble." "I think you'd better stop drinking too," added Ben. "Come, Ben, you are meaner than dirt," said Tom, indignantly. Old Hapgood was a confirmed toper.
"And you think Gifford can be a liar and a knave!" sneered Anthony. "I have not one word against him," said the priest. "But neither had I against Thomas FitzHerbert; and you know what has befallen " Anthony snorted with disdain. "Put your finger through another hole," he said. "Well I like not the comfort that Mr. Secretary Walsingham has given you.
I ought to put you out." "Try it," sneered Hayden. "No," answered Quimby, "I ain't going to do it. Maybe it's because I've grown timid, brooding over my failure. And maybe it's because I know who's got the seventh key." Hayden made no reply. No one stirred for a minute, and then Quimby moved away, and went out through the dining-room door. The seventh key! Mr. Magee thrilled at the mention of it.
This was an unnecessarily unkind speech, and Birt's anger flamed out. "Ef we-uns war of a size, Andy Byers," he said, hotly, "I'd make ye divide work a leetle more ekal than ye does." Andy Byers dropped the hide in his hands, and looked steadily across the pit at Birt, as if he were taking the boy's measure. "Ye mean ter say ef ye hed the bone an' muscle ye'd knock me down, do ye?" he sneered.
"Did you bring some of Miss Honeyman's lodging-house cards with you, Ethel?" sneered her brother, "and had we not better hang up one or two in Lombard Street; hers and our other relation's, Mrs. Mason?" "My darling love, who is Mrs. Mason?" asks Lady Ann. "Another member of the family, ma'am. She was cousin " "She was no such thing, sir," roars Sir Brian.
The boat was drifting down the lake, and, at the sound of another motor craft approaching, Tom looked up. He saw the RED STREAK, containing Andy Foger and his cronies. They had observed the young inventor's plight. "Want a tow?" sneered Andy. "What'll you take for your second-hand boat that won't run?" asked Pete Bailey. "Better get out of the way or you might be run down," added Sam Snedecker.