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"Unless," he said in a monotonous voice, "something happens within the next few days I’ll begin to feel queer in my head; and if I feel it coming on, I’ll blow my bally nut off. Or somebody’s." And he touched his service automatic in its holster and yawned. After a dead silence: "Buck up," remarked Carfax; "think how our men must feel in Belfort, never letting off their guns.
An’ there ain’t a moth hole in it—not one." Janice looked out of the window. "I’ve got a cameo pin, too," continued Aunt Mary reflectively. "My, but that’s a handsome pin, as I remember it. It’s got Jupiter on it holdin’ a bunch of thunder and lightnin’ an’ receivin’ the news of somebody’s bein’ born—I used to know the whole story.
This tall stout man in black is the door-keeper. ‘Any room?’ ‘Not an inch—two or three dozen gentlemen waiting down-stairs on the chance of somebody’s going out.’ Pull out your purse—‘Are you quite sure there’s no room?’—‘I’ll go and look,’ replies the door-keeper, with a wistful glance at your purse, ‘but I’m afraid there’s not.’ He returns, and with real feeling assures you that it is morally impossible to get near the gallery.
He doesn’t love you and he never can. He will always love me. He’s as much mine as if I had married him, in spite of all your attempts to take him. Oh, you needn’t put up your baby mouth and pucker it as if you were going to cry. Cry away. It won’t do any good. You can’t make a man yours, any more than you can make somebody’s clothes yours. They don’t fit you any more than he does.
Lena came out from Tony’s room behind the kitchen, very pink from the heat of the feathers, but otherwise calm. She begged Ántonia and me to go with her, and help get her cattle together; they were scattered and might be gorging themselves in somebody’s cornfield. “Maybe you lose a steer and learn not to make somethings with your eyes at married men,” Mrs. Shimerda told her hectoringly.
"Yes, rather," said Julia, and her kind-hearted sister arose and found her way in the dark downstairs to her mother’s room. "What in thunder’s come now?" called out Mr. Middleton. "’Pears like somebody’s been tousing round the house all night." "It’s only I, father," said Fanny. "Julia has the toothache, and I am after the camphor bottle." "Oh, it’s you, Sunshine, is it?
Samuel Wilkins ordered two glasses of rum-and-water ‘warm with—’ and two slices of lemon, for himself and the other young man, together with ‘a pint o’ sherry wine for the ladies, and some sweet carraway-seed biscuits;’ and they would have been quite comfortable and happy, only a strange gentleman with large whiskers would stare at Miss J’mima Ivins, and another gentleman in a plaid waistcoat would wink at Miss J’mima Ivins’s friend; on which Miss Jemima Ivins’s friend’s young man exhibited symptoms of boiling over, and began to mutter about ‘people’s imperence,’ and ‘swells out o’ luck;’ and to intimate, in oblique terms, a vague intention of knocking somebody’s head off; which he was only prevented from announcing more emphatically, by both Miss J’mima Ivins and her friend threatening to faint away on the spot if he said another word.
As to his ancient friends, the other old boys, at the Sir Somebody’s Head, he dropped off from them by gradual degrees; for, even when he did go there, Jones—vulgar fellow that Jones—persisted in asking ‘when it was to be?’ and ‘whether he was to have any gloves?’ together with other inquiries of an equally offensive nature: at which not only Harris laughed, but Jennings also; so, he cut the two, altogether, and attached himself solely to the blue young lady at the smart oyster-shop.
He was standing with his arms folded, staring up at the balloon, and every now and then vented his feelings of reverence for the aëronaut, by saying, as he looked round to catch somebody’s eye, ‘He’s a rum ’un is Green; think o’ this here being up’ards of his two hundredth ascent; ecod, the man as is ekal to Green never had the toothache yet, nor won’t have within this hundred year, and that’s all about it.
Where is the sense in humoring her so? I wouldn’t if I were you." Janice lifted up her lovely eyes. "Oh, yes, you would," she said simply. "If somebody’s future happiness depended upon her you would humor her just as much as I do." Jack was touched. "You are an angel of unselfishness," he exclaimed, warmly, "and I don’t deserve such devotion." "Oh, don’t be too grateful," she replied, dimpling.
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