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A crowd of people collected on the sidewalk. “Police, police!” shrieked the shrill voice of a woman. The people began to make their way up the stairs. “Oh, oh, oh!” moaned Dorothea. In half a minute she had her dress on. “Out of this place and away,” she said, as she looked for her gloves and umbrella. Frau Hadebusch appeared in the hall, wringing her hands. Behind her stood Philippina.

In the name of blind ill-fortune, cried Miss Mowcher, wringing her hands impatiently, as she went to and fro again upon the fender, 'why did you praise her so, and blush, and look disturbed? I could not conceal from myself that I had done this, though for a reason very different from her supposition.

Tensely one hand held the other, the restraint of culture, only, keeping her from wringing them in her anguish. Dr. Harkins, the village physician, stood at the foot of the bed, his honest face set in strong lines in anticipation of the worst. Many scenes of suffering had rendered him only more sympathetic with human sorrow, sympathetic with the real, increasingly intolerant of the false.

These fogs are so wet that a man riding up on to the hills at 4 a.m. may find his clothes wringing wet, and every tree dripping water, just as during the first week of last November in London many trees distilled pools of water from the fog, as if it had been pouring with rain. Such was the case on July 4th, 1901. The fogs will draw up the hollows towards the ponds, and hang densely round them.

"By the Host! I should be wringing your pert neck, or laying bare your bones with a thong of bullock-hide, you ill conditioned Fool!" I looked at him with pleasant, smiling eyes. "You confirm the opinion that is popularly held of you," said I. "What may that be?" quoth he, his eyes very evil. "In Rome, I'm told, they call you hangman."

If they think it's complimental, they are infarnally mistaken, that's all: it's an insult and nothin' else, makin' a fool of a body that way. Heavens and airth! I am wringing wet! I'm ready to faint! Where's the key of your cellaret? I want some brandy and water. I'm dead; bury me quick, for I won't be nice directly. Oh dear! how that lean gall hurt me! How horrid sharp her bones are!

It was an old-fashioned house, with a high, rickety portico over the door, and a tall, narrow window a good way above it. At this window, where the flicker of the flame was reflected through the smoke that was now pouring out and blackening the old woodwork, a glimpse of a child's face had been seen, and Raspall was already in the roadway wringing his hands and calling for a ladder.

So saying, Standish smote the sailor upon his shoulder, and took his great paw into the grasp of a hand small and shapely, but of such iron grip that the burly fellow winced, and wringing away his fingers cried, "Nay, then, thou 'rt more cruel as a friend than thou 'rt maddening as a master. I'll none of thee." "And where are thy generous gifts now bestowed?" asked Bradford practically.

Perhaps if I had not promised I might steel my heart against him but, Philip, you would never think highly of me again if I were so ready to rend the hand that fed me. We have had our hour, dear. Its memory will never leave me. I shall think of you, dream of you, when, it may be, some other girl oh, no, I do not mean that! Philip, don't be angry with me to-day. You are wringing my heart!"

Up and down the streets she had gone, round and round, wringing her lean fingers together and tasting on her lips the salt of tears which rolled down her cheeks tears of torment and rage. There was the bitterness of death in what, by a mere trick of chance, came about.