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"He he's insulted me," ses Miss Gill, taking out her little 'ankercher and sobbing. "He k-kissed me!" "WOT!" ses Mrs. Gill. "Well, I'd never 'ave believed it! Never! Why 'e ought to be taken up. Wot d'ye mean by it?" she ses, turning on pore Ginger.

But to him each familiar object was bound by a thousand memories. And it was the loss of these which could never be replaced that cut him to the quick. Meanwhile this was the kind of thing he had to listen to. "'Ere now, ladies and gents, we 'ave a very fine pier glass a very chaste and tasty pier glass indeed a red addition to any lady's drawin'room. Mrs. Rupp? Do I understand you aright, Mrs.

Amidst the tears which their pains drew from them, the exasperated and howling sick began to chant the "Ave maris Stella" with a growing clamour in which lamentation finally turned into cries of hope. Marie had again taken Pierre's hand between her little feverish fingers. "Oh, mon Dieu!" said she, "to think that poor man is dead, and I feared so much that it was I who would die before arriving.

"I never see'im looking so fat and well. By rights he oughtn't to 'ave the same share as wot we're going to 'ave; he ain't doing none of the work."

"The on'y thing I can see," says the boy, one day, "is for Bill to 'ave a touch of sunstroke as 'e's leaving the wheel one day, tumble 'ead-first down the companion-way, and injure 'isself so severely that 'e can't be moved. Then they'll put 'im in a cabin down aft, and p'raps I'll 'ave to go and nurse 'im. Anyway, he'll be down there." "It's a very good idea, Bill," I says.

"What 'ave you got to say for yourself for running away and then writing them letters, telling me to get rid of my relations?" "That's a long time ago, Julia," ses Dixon, raising the flap in the counter and going into the bar. "I've gone through a great deal o' suffering since then.

A string band, hidden in the orchestra under a roof of palms, played the first bars of her dance, and then stopped short and waited solemnly. She still stood, glass in hand. "It is my birthday. God and I alone know which one. I drink to myself. I wish myself good luck. Vive myself. Vive Gyp Labelle and all who 'ave loved 'er and love 'er and shall love 'er!"

It was ten to one that Silver Braid would turn it up, or that the boy wouldn't 'ave the strength to ride out so close a finish as it was bound to be. I thought then of the way you used to take him along from Portslade, and I'd have given something to've put a pound or two of flesh into his thighs and arms. The Tinman was riding splendid, getting every ounce and something more out of Bullfinch.

"Wh-a-t!" he stammered. "Mary Ann leaving you?" "Well, you don't suppose," replied Mrs. Leadbatter angrily, "as I can keep a gel in my kitchen as is a-goin' to 'ave 'er own nors-end-kerridge!" "Her own horse and carriage!" repeated Lancelot, utterly dazed. "What ever are you talking about?" "Well there's the letter!" exclaimed Mrs. Leadbatter indignantly. "See for yourself if you don't believe me.

It's plain that 'er ladyship 'as set 'er face against that. And, wot's more, they can't 'ave much to try 'im on, or they'd 'ave to do it, in spite o' wot she said," said John Pittaway in yet more disagreeable accents. William Roper was very angry. This was not to be borne. Indeed, if John Pittaway were right, and there was to be no trial, where was his dramatic and impressive appearance at it?