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Mary V unfastened herself from the seat, twisted around and stared at Johnny, still finding nothing to say. A strange experience for Mary V, I assure you. "Well," said Johnny again, "here we are." His eyes met Mary V's with a certain shyness, a wistfulness and a daring quite unusual. "Get out. I'll help you down." "Get out?" Mary V caught her breath. "But we must go back, Johnny!
Mark you, I don't say I was much better informed for the reading I did, for I was watching the V's on the wallpaper mostly that, and wondering what was wrong with the man in the other bed who had fallen down at a touch in the subway. He was already asleep. Now I don't know whether I can make the next clear to you.
The art of subtle suggestion could hardly go further than in this line, where the alliterating v's, the mute e's, and the placing of the long syllables combine so wonderfully to produce the required effect. But it is not only suggestions of nature that readers like Mr. Bailey are unable to find in Racine they miss in him no less suggestions of the mysterious and the infinite.
But he had a new story to tell his friends in the clubs of Tucson, Phoenix, Yuma, Los Angeles. And whenever he told it, Sudden Selmer would repeat what he called The Skyrider's Dream from the first verse to Mary V's last even unto Bud's improvisation. He would paint Johnny's bombardment of the choir practice until his audience could almost hear the thud of the rocks when they landed.
I can't burn gas giving away joy rides to fellows that haven't any intention of buying me out. They'll have to dig up the coin, after this I can let it go on the purchase price if they do buy, you see. That's fair enough " "Then you won't even listen to dad's proposition?" Mary V's tone proved how she was clinging to the real issue.
Few people realize that 'ocean records' are a very old affair, even in Canada, where they begin with Champlain's voyage of eighteen days from Honfleur to Tadoussac and end with King George V's sixty-seven hours from land to land, when he speeded home in H.M.S. Indomitable from Champlain's tercentenary at Quebec in 1908, handling his shovel in the stokehole by the way.
Mary V's father dodged successfully the rock, saw a couple of sheets of paper lying on the ground, and methodically picked them up before he advanced to where his men were trying to appear very busy with the horses, or with their ropes, or with anything save what had held their attention just previous to his coming.
This is composed of eight semicircles, with V's connecting them, the apex of each V being on the outside. It appears like an attempt at creating a conventionalized flower in brick. Two hundred yards or so away from the monastery is a square structure, the outside of boulders.
A hundred men were presently combing the desert land and looking for an airplane that had not flown that way just because Johnny Jewel was true to his supreme purpose in life. And just because Johnny's whole heart and soul were set upon repaying a conscience debt to Mary V's father, Mary V herself was innocently saddling his conscience with a still greater debt.
"Well, our young aviator seems to be holding on," the doctor observed very, very casually, seeming not to see the question Mary V's eyes were asking because her lips would not form it in words. "Better, on the whole, than I expected." "Then you think " "I think we won't worry about it until we have to. They're tough, these young devils."
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