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"Da," she muttered, folding her gown tightly around her, "I must go downstairs and fetch some wood. Brr! the cold!" "There isn't any wood," volunteered the strange man. She gave a little cry of astonishment, and then tossed her head. "You again," she said scornfully, conscious the while of his merry eye, and the fresh, strong smell of his healthy body.
I touched Hobart's arm and we started across the street. "Brr is right," I answered, "and some wine. Notice the shadows, like ghosts." We were half across the street before he answered; then he stopped. "Ghosts! Did you say ghosts, Harry?" I noted a strange inflection in his voice. He stood still and peered into the fog bank. His stop was sudden and suggestive.
You've placed some ornaments on the canvas of history, you've added some flourishes, but that does not interfere with the correctness of the whole. It's these very little, pot-bellied creatures who are the chief sinners and deceivers and the most poisonous insects that harass the human race. The Frenchmen call them 'bourgeois. Remember that word, dear granny bourgeois! Brr!
Let me examine. Brr what ghastly words and with what a light heart I said them, tripped them out, ma foi, as gaily as "good-morning" or "good-night!" They were to be the open sesame to joys untold, to lands flowing with milk and honey, to romance, adventure, splendour and what have they brought me? It is a cold day, sleeting, snowing, blowing, all that is abominable.
"So it is," confirmed Tutmosis; "love is like honey. It must be taken by sips, a man must not swim in it. Brr! shudders pass over me when I think that Thou hast passed nearly two months fed on kisses in the evening, dates in the morning, and asses' milk at midday." "Sarah is a very good girl," said Ramses.
I was anxious to know well, perhaps not anxious exactly but still You know what such a homecoming is: lots of people, noise, brr! I hardly got any sleep.
One said this and another said that, and a cat passing by took fright and ran away, hearing these strange noises: 'Bou, bou, grou, ou, ou, houic, houic, briff, briffnac, nac, nac, fouix, fouix, trr, trr, trr, trr, za, za, zaaa, brr, brr, raaa, ra, ra, ra, fouix! so well blended together in a babel of sound, that a council at the Hotel de Ville could not have made a greater hubbub.
The Funeral of the Poor, by the late Vigneron, isn't to be ridiculed. Brr!" At last we came to the edge of the grave. The place and the time were sad. Under a cloudy sky the little yew-trees, swayed by the wind, threw down their burdens of melted snow. The by-standers had formed a circle, and were watching the grave-diggers, who were lowering the coffin by cords.
His husky voice spoke almost inaudibly. "I'm ... old ... Bill ... Bean ... I ..." A deep-noted siren hooted dimly. "A steamer making for dock," whispered Max. "Brr! it is a nightmare, this! I think in a minute something will happen. Ssh!" Ah-Fang-Fu glanced slowly around.
Snuffed out like a candle, and with as little ceremony, was all the warm, complex life that had made up this one, throbbing bit of humanity: for what it had been, not a soul alive now cared. And what a night, too, for one's first night underground! Brr! At the thought of it, he drank another cup of coffee, and a fiery, stirring liqueur.
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