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"It suits you very well," said Mrs Jackson. "Don't it suit him, Arnold?" "Of course it does." Bateman sweated at every pore. "Isn't it a pity it's dark?" said Eva. "We could photograph you all three together." Bateman thanked his stars it was.
Who would not be astonished at so strange a constitution as that of Demophoon, steward to Alexander the Great, who sweated in the shade and shivered in the sun?
When he had climbed up the six flights of stairs to his lodging, and crouched shivering over the ill-burning movable hearth, in the parsimonious light of a small bronze or earthenware lamp, while the raw damp sweated through the walls, he felt more and more his poverty and loneliness. He hated Rome and the stupid ambition which had brought him there.
However it be, I am informed that several asses are now kept in body-clothes, and sweated every morning upon the heath: and that all the country-fellows within ten miles of the Swan grin an hour or two in their glasses every morning, in order to qualify themselves for the 9th of October.
I do not intend to imply that Kettle actually drove a winch, or acted as stevedore below, or sweated over bales as they swung up through a hatch, but he did work as gangway man, and serve at the tally desk, and oversee generally while the crew worked cargo; and his watch over the passengers was at this period of necessity relaxed.
I tell you what I don't mind telling you it was a bit of a smack in the eye for me for a moment. You know, I've rather sweated over this business," his glance indicated the stacked bookshelves, the firm's publications, his publications.... "See what I mean?" A certain movement in his throat and about his mouth indicated, more than his words, what he meant. A slight.
She could not understand, that in permitting her, while he sweated fruitlessly, to give herself up to the occupation of a lady, he had followed the promptings of his native kindness, and certainly not of his native wisdom. That she should deem herself `best man' of the two, and suggest his stamping his name to such an opinion before the world, was an outrage. Mrs. Fleming was failing in health.
He sweated us up in the usual style, yet his manner was milder than usual and he didn't lay a finger on even the most lubberly of the stiffs. Aye, for the first time during the voyage perhaps for the first time in the life of the ship a full day passed in the Golden Bough and not a man felt the weight of a boot or a fist. It was an occasion, I can tell you!
The colonel wanted to stay, and the rd's B Battery were in action there until four this morning. It was a Divisional decision that there should be a retirement to the next ridge. The poor old infantry were fed to the teeth. They'd sweated blood digging trenches all day on the Caillouel ridge, and then in the evening had to fall back and start digging again. "Have you seen the colonel?" I asked.
Then, finally, the contents of the wagon covered with a light canvas protection against the dust. "Where you from?" he demanded peremptorily. "Just got through from Myrtle," replied the man, quite undisturbed by the other's manner. "Fourteen miles," said McBain sharply. "Guess your plugs sweated some. What's your name, and who do you work for?"
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