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Updated: May 5, 2025
“She has been there, sir. She stayed a little while, and went off again.” “What? Went away?” cried Mitya. “When did she go?” “Why, as soon as she came. She only stayed a minute. She only told Kuzma Kuzmitch a tale that made him laugh, and then she ran away.” “You’re lying, damn you!” roared Mitya. “Aie! Aie!” shrieked the old woman, but Mitya had vanished.
Now they will not let our officers go away, sick or well, except they sign a bond not to take part in this war-game upon the road. But he was clever. There was no whisper of war when he took his sick-leave. I came also? Assuredly. Give me leave, for I am old and sick also." My Sahib back again aie me!
Not a flaw. She is a lantern with no light in it crystal, if you like. Hark now at Irma, the stork-neck. Aie! what a long way it is from your throat to your head, Mademoiselle Irma! You were reared upon lemons. The split hair of your mural crown is not thinner than that voice of yours.
"To thank her before I go for her kindness to me." The old face wrinkled into a smile. "It was not then for the beaux yeux of the grand'mère that you entered?" "Si, si! Of course it was," he protested. "But one, nevertheless, must be polite to mademoiselle." "Aïe! aïe!" said the old woman, bustling out: "I'll call her."
Souvenez-vous, j'ai glisse dans le sang quand je suis entre ici. Aussi j'ai entendu un battement d'ailes dans l'air, un battement d'ailes gigantesques. Ce sont de tres mauvais presages. Et il y en avait d'autres. Je suis sur qu'il y en avait d'autres, quoique je ne les aie pas vus. Eh bien! Salome, vous ne voulez pas qu'un malheur m'arrive? Vous ne voulez pas cela. Salome.
'Never mind your partner. Where are your horse-trucks? 'A little to this side of the farthest place where they make lamps for the trains. 'The signal-box! Yes. 'And upon the rail nearest to the road upon the right-hand side looking up the line thus. But as regards Lutuf Ullah a tall man with a broken nose, and a Persian greyhound Aie!
The examination is difficult, but with patience and hard work you could get through. Study, read more. . . . Do you read much?" "Not much, I must own . . ." says Ivan Matveyitch, lighting a cigarette. "Have you read Turgenev?" "N-no. . . ." "And Gogol?" "Gogol. H'm! . . . Gogol. . . . No, I haven't read him!" "Ivan Matveyitch! Aren't you ashamed? Aie! aie!
Scarcely had she done speaking than the two young fellows hastened to count over to her such monies as they possessed, while the girl watched sullen and defiant. "Aie aie!" quoth the old woman suddenly.
He was present at all the dressings of the wounds from which Mademoiselle Gillenormand modestly absented herself. When the dead flesh was cut away with scissors, he said: "Aie! aie!" Nothing was more touching than to see him with his gentle, senile palsy, offer the wounded man a cup of his cooling-draught. He overwhelmed the doctor with questions.
Hincheliffe is blasphemious. The tow's sheered off to starboard, Sir. He'll fair pull the stern out of us." Moorshed, invisible, cursed through the megaphone into invisibility. "Aie! yeou little man-o'-war!" The voice butted through the fog with the monotonous insistence of a strayed sheep's. "We don't all like the road you'm takin'. 'Tis no road to Brixham.
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