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He reread the letter three times with exceeding care, his eyes narrowing to mere slits, then thrust it into an inner pocket. He was very thoughtful on the homeward ride, his preoccupied air at the supper table emboldening Punk to irreverent levity: "These yeah partin's are shore deespiritin' things!" he observed, lugubriously, to nobody in particular.
"Yeah, but wait till you hear the second verse. That's only part of the chorus. You see, he's supposed to be talking to a French girl. He says: 'I'll parlez-vous in Francais plain You'll answer, "Cher Americain," We'll both ..." The six-o'clock lights blazed up suddenly.
"I might have known how it would be, Shag," he remarked, almost mournfully. "I might have known I'd run into something when I came here for rest." "Dat's right, Colonel. Yo' suah might! But who does yo' s'pect did dish yeah killin'?" "It's too early yet to tell, Shag, and you know I don't make any predictions. I want to get a few more facts." This the colonel proceeded to do.
"We shall soon know whether we shall have storm." "Indications are for violent thunder and lightning soon," Knowlton contributed. "See those husky clubmen awaiting? Looks as if a public execution were about to be pulled off." "Yeah. But say, ain't that chief a reg'lar he-man, though! No pot-bellied fathead like that there, now, Suby guy. Hope I don't have to drill him. I bet I won't, neither.
Jennifer spotted him as soon as he drove in. "Morning! I love your jacket." She reached out and felt it between her thumb and first two fingers. That Mark. "Morning, Jennifer. Yeah, it's nice. Linen," he said, but he was damned if he was going to mail it to her. "I brought your drum; it's in the car. I'll get it." She skipped over to a white Volvo and took a drum from the back seat.
"Steve, as a computer, you're a blinding flash and a deafening report!" "Yeah missed it only about half a million kilometers or so," he replied, grinning, "and I'd fire a whole flock of I-P check stations for being four thousand off. However, I could have done worse I could easily have forgotten all the data on it, instead of only half of it."
"Say, boy," exclaimed Clark breathlessly, "doesn't Nancy Lamar look beautiful?" Jim nodded. "Mighty beautiful," he agreed. "She's all dolled up to a fare-you-well to-night," continued Clark. "Notice that fellow she's with?" "Big fella? White pants?" "Yeah. Well, that's Ogden Merritt from Savannah. Old man Merritt makes the Merritt safety razors. This fella's crazy about her.
When yo' play dance music, hit's softer and sweeter than some of those awful mountain hymns in which we condemn lost souls to the fire. Course, the wicked goes to hell, but somehow I cayn't git up much enthusiasm about that down yeah.
"When I was a kid," said Tim reflectively, "there used to be a female siren in the movies. Her pet line used to be 'Kiss me, my fool! Theda Bara, I think. Before talkies. Now " "No, Tim " Another long silence. "Now, Tim, you've simply got to go!" "Yeah, I know. You've convinced me." "Then why aren't you going?" He chuckled. "Look, you've convinced me. I can't stay so I'll go, obviously.
I don't suppose that the dog really wanted the cake batter, though he liked sweet things. But he thought Nan had his dinner in the pan. However, before he could get near enough to her to "jiggle" her arm, and make her drop the pan, Dinah came in. "Heah, you Snap!" cried the cook with a laugh. "Yo' done got t' git outen dish yeah kitchen when cake-bakin' am goin' on!"
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