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Unable of course to repress your curiosity in so favourable a moment for indulging it, you will instantly arise, and throwing your dressing-gown around you, proceed to examine this mystery.
Five nights had passed, and every night the sentinel, who stood at a lonely out-post in the vicinity of the forest, had been shot; and these repeated disasters struck such dread among the remaining soldiers, that no one would come forward to offer to take the post, and the commander, knowing it was only throwing men's lives away, let it stand for a few nights unoccupied.
Is it behind these books?" he growled, pulling them out and throwing them helter-skelter over the floor. "Women is smart in the hiding business. Is it behind these books, I say?" They had been, or rather had been placed between the books, but she had taken them away, as we know, and he soon began to realise that his search was bringing him nothing.
Almost throwing the body of the child back into Jane Clayton's arms, Rokoff stamped up and down the hut, pounding the air with his clenched fists and cursing terribly. At last he halted in front of the young woman, bringing his face down close to hers. "You are laughing at me," he shrieked. "You think that you have beaten me eh?
A half shadow in the semi-darkness, Jack was already throwing the saddle over P.D.'s back. "We will get away at once," he said. Firio knew that something strange had come over Señor Jack after he had met Señorita Ewold on the pass, and now he was convinced that this thing had been working in Señor Jack's mind all night. "Coffee before we start?" he inquired ingratiatingly.
The priest also fought upwards to them and caught them as they came, having reserved his great strength until now. Throwing his left arm over the lad he relieved Iberville of his burden, but called to him to hold on. The blood was flowing into Iberville's eyes and he could do nothing else. But now came the fight between the priest and the mad waters.
S lost no time, but throwing off his coat, jumped in and swam to the rescue. Throughout this entire incident his manner was that of an enthusiastic boy who had something exceedingly novel. He did not laugh. In all our acquaintance I never once heard him give a sound, hearty laugh. Instead he cackled. His delight apparently could only express itself in that way.
They make burrows in the ground, often throwing up a little mound with several entrances which lead to a central passageway connecting with the bedroom and storerooms. By day the entrances are closed with earth from inside, for the Mice are active only at night. Sometimes the burrows are hidden under bushes, and sometimes they are right out in the open.
'He hasn't said anything about it, anyhow. And why should I have a thing forced upon me whether I will or not, and then be pulled up for throwing it away when I found it troublesome? 'Surely I don't quite understand you, Charley. 'Well, if I must be more explicit I was never asked whether I chose to be made or not. I never had the conditions laid before me.
Your throwing it all up was one of the shocks of my life." She laughed mockingly to hide her sensitiveness. "One of the shocks of my life," he repeated. She was looking at him curiously wondering why he was thus uncandid. "It puzzled me," he went on. "I've been lingering on here, trying to solve the puzzle. And the more I've seen of you the less I understand. Why did you do it?
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