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"Faix, Mr. Merwyn, now that oi've hope I'll be whist as a baby asleep. Ye knew me onst as a light, giddy gurl, but oi'll watch over Barney wid such a slapeless eye as wud shame his own mither." And she kept her word. For days and nights her husband remained unconscious, wavering between life and death.
"Whist, my lass, and go to sleep. Take a sup of the good wine Mrs. Minot sent, for you are as cold as a clod, and it breaks my heart to see my Janey so." "I can't go to sleep; I don't see how Jack's mother could send me anything when I've half killed him. I want to be cold and ache and have horrid things done to me.
Anon came uncle Joseph, bringing with him some slight perfume from the piggeries, and he and aunt Dorothy were pleased to be pleasantly facetious and congratulatory in their conversation during the social meal which followed their advent. After tea we played whist again, aunt Dorothy and I obtaining a succession of easy victories over Charlotte and uncle Joe.
He is in despair at not being able to make his games of whist count for mute adoration of my charms." "Hush, my darling!" cried Madame Latournelle, "here he comes." "Old Althor is in despair," said Gobenheim to Monsieur Mignon as he entered. "Why?" asked the count. "Vilquin is going to fail; and the Bourse thinks you are worth several millions. What ill-luck for his son!"
"And who plays it," replied Phileas Fogg coolly, throwing down the ten of spades. "Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds," replied Colonel Proctor, in an insolent tone. He made a movement as if to seize the card which had just been played, adding, "You don't understand anything about whist." "Perhaps I do, as well as another," said Phileas Fogg, rising.
The fog lasted for three days, during which, as the wind was fair and the sea calm, the passengers, well wrapped up, enjoyed the promenade of the deck during the day, and the social meetings in the dining saloon, or the whist parties in the ladies' cabin during the evening.
Here the woman herself broke in upon Mr. Saul. "He had nae conscience he had nae conscience. He was just a poor luck-child, born by mischance and put away without baptism. He had nae conscience. How should he?" I looked from her to Mr. Saul in perplexity. "Whist!" said he; "we'll talk of that anon." "We will not," said she. "We will talk of it now.
Fogg, and apologise for his singular behaviour. Passepartout got up and proceeded, as well as he could with the rolling of the steamer, to the after-deck. He saw no one who resembled either his master or Aouda. "Good!" muttered he; "Aouda has not got up yet, and Mr. Fogg has probably found some partners at whist." He descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg was not there.
"You and M. le Marquis own the estate conjointly; but the larger part of it is yours. You can raise money upon it without saying a word to him." The players at whist, reversis, boston, and backgammon noticed that evening that Mlle. Armande's features, usually so serene and pure, showed signs of agitation. "That poor heroic child!" said the old Marquise de Casteran, "she must be suffering still.
A wise person once said, 'The older a man gets the worse he gets. That wise person, my dear, had me in his eye, and was perfectly right." He mitigated the pain of that confession with a pinch of snuff, and went to the whist table to wait until the end of the rubber gave him a place at the game.
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