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In one of her letters to her English friend, Angelina acknowledges the present from her of a large picture of a Kneeling Slave, and adds: "We purpose pasting it on binder's boards, binding it with colored paper, and fixing it over our mantelpiece. It is just such a speaking monument of suffering as we want in our parlor, and suits my fireboard most admirably.
Binder's vakeel insisted upon giving a bullock to my people. This bullock I resisted for some time, until I saw that the man was affronted. It is impossible to procure from the natives any cattle by purchase. The country is now a swamp, but it will be passable during the dry season.
The Flemings are absolutely German, and in this war they treat us with friendly confidence. Their eyes do not glitter with fanatical hate like those of the Walloons." Herr Binder's meditations on the slaughter in the valley of the Meuse are not without interest. "A vale which has been won by German blood! In recent days the waters of the Meuse have often flowed blood-red.
The photograph came just as I had begun to despair of it, and I lost not a moment in putting the precious manuscript into my binder's hands. I've been for a week's holiday at Tryston, and met several friends of yours: Mr. and Mrs. Tom Hughes, Mrs. and Miss Procter, Mrs. Milnes. The latter spoke most affectionately about you. And so did Mrs. Ainsworth, whom I met two days ago. I'm very fond of Mrs.
It was bound in blue cloth and was a heavy book, so that I held it on a cushion. Some books will flop a hundred pages, to make you thumb them back and forth, though whether this be the binder's fault or a deviltry set therein by their authors I am at a loss to say. But Shaw would be of this kind, flopping and spry to mix you up.
Harwood's pleasure in the beautiful specimens of the binder's art was unfeigned and to his questioning Bassett dilated upon the craftsmanship. "The red morocco of the Emerson takes the gold tooling beautifully, and the oak-leaf border design couldn't be finer. I believe this olive-green shade is the best of all.
I noticed that he was rather bald, and in the middle of his baldness was a kind of little knob. For the purposes of this record, therefore, I shall give him the name "Bald," while I shall call the other man "Cap." I have forgotten, by the way, to tell you that Bald had a very large nose, at the end of which a great number of little veins had congested and turned quite blue. Binder's my name.
"I know they are, and you must have something done for them immediately." "Let me go to the binder's first." "Very well. Go to the binder's. But be sure to come to my office as you return; I want to see you particularly." My words made the blood rush to the child's pale face. Hope again was springing up in his bosom. In about ten minutes he entered my office.
The poor fellow had no suspicion that Sidonie herself, a month before, had selected at Binder's the coupe which Georges insisted upon giving her, and which was to be charged to expense account in order not to alarm the husband. Honest Risler was so plainly created to be deceived.
Leaving his comrades to watch the magistrate's operations, he sent M. Bourigeau to report the count's death at the district mayor's office, and then lighting a cigar he walked out of the house, and strolled leisurely up the Rue de Courcelles. The place appointed for his meeting with M. Fortunat was on the Boulevard Haussmann, almost opposite Binder's, the famous carriage builder.
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