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"But what is your business?" asked Winthrop, with an indifference that he did not feel. "S-s-s-h-h! I'm cons'able. Tha's on the quiet. Thousand dollars rewar' f'r th' appr'enshun of 'Verlan' Red. Thought you was him hic hee! hee!" "Please don't laugh like that. It hurts my feelings," said Winthrop. "It is bad enough to be taken for a er tramp." "Nobody's feelin's pologishe. 'Course you ain' him!
Kada was waiting in the doorway, bowing stiffly, sucking in his breath, beaming; the cook just behind him, following him in sound and gesture, and the Japanese gardener, hat in hand, stood at the foot of the steps as she passed to say, "How-do? Veree glod! Veree glod! Tha's nize you coming home! Veree glod!" Honor shook hands with them all.
You can lose a friend in springtime easier than any other season if you're too curious." "If we talk about him I can't help looking at him," Mary said as softly as possible. "We must talk of something else. There is something I want to tell you." "He'll like it better if us talks o' somethin' else," said Dickon. "What is it tha's got to tell me?" "Well do you know about Colin?" she whispered.
She skipped down the walk toward him and he lifted his head and looked at her with a curious expression. She had wondered if he would notice her. She wanted him to see her skip. "Well!" he exclaimed. "Upon my word. P'raps tha' art a young 'un, after all, an' p'raps tha's got child's blood in thy veins instead of sour buttermilk.
I'd 'most rather be dead than married to you. But you keep pesterin' me. I I " Her voice broke. "If you don' know what's best for you, I do. To-morrow I got to go to Meeker. I'll be back Thursday. We'll ride over to Bear Cat Friday an' be married. Tha's how we'll fix it." He did not take her in his arms or try to kiss her. The man was wise in his generation.
An' now you say to me, 'Frenchy, 'oo the 'ell are you? Yais." Mills shrugged protestingly. The appeal was to the core of his nature; the demand was one he could not dishonor. "I didn't say just that," he urged. "But what are the chaps from Macequece after you for?" "Tha's all right," replied the Frenchman with a wave of his hand. "You say, 'Frenchy, I don' like you. Dam' you, Frenchy! Ver' well.
"Oh, tha's all right," he mumbled. "Have you seen Mr. Threewit yet?" she asked. "Threewit no." He was for a moment puzzled at her question. "No he's out getting a set somewheres in the hills." Ruth came back and took the note from Harrison's reluctant fingers. "He ought to get this at once. I'll send Billie Brown out with it. He'll explain to Mr.
It was not Jessie McRae, but a man, an Indian, the Blackfoot who had ridden out with the girl once to spoil his triumph over the red-coat Beresford. For a moment he stood, stupefied, jaw fallen and mouth open. "Whad you doin' here?" he asked at last. "No food my camp. I hunt," Onistah said. "Tha's a lie. Where's the McRae girl?" The slim Indian said nothing.
If ever there was a wife who was kep' short, and used hard, that was yer wife, Depper, my man! Bad you ha' been to her that's gone to 'er account, in all ways; who should know that better'n me, I'll ask ye? An' if at las' 'tis come home to ye, sarve ye wholly right. Tha's all the comfort ye'll get from me, bor." "Stop along of me!" Depper cried, as, her work being finished, she moved to the door.
"Tha's tha's because you have 'spischus nashur'," protests Ernie. "Merely few glasshes. You know bubblesh in stem." "Champagne, eh?" says I. "Then it was a reg'lar party? Ernie, I am surprised at you." "You you ain't half so shurprised as as I am myshelf," says he, chucklin'. "Tha's what I told Louishe."
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