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"But what I want to know is whether we'll succeed in acclimatisin' the blighter, or whether Sir William Gardner's keepers 'll kill 'im before 'e gets accustomed to 'is surroundin's?" Some day, I think, we must go up the Linghurst Road and find out. "WIRELESS" "It's a funny thing, this Marconi business, isn't it?" said Mr. Shaynor, coughing heavily.
"A great many cars thinks they can take this road; but they all come back. We walks after 'em at our convenience." "Meanin' that the other jaunty is now pursuin' us on his lily feet?" said Pyecroft. "Precisely." Get out!" The man obeyed with alacrity. "See those spars up-ended over there? I mean that wickyup-thing. Hop-poles, then, you rural blighter. Keep on fetching me hop-poles at the double."
The Sergeant demurred still, by no means for the sake of saving Beaumaroy's skin, but still purely for the reason already given; yet he admitted that he could not name any date on which he could guarantee Beaumaroy's absence from Tower Cottage. "He never leaves the old blighter alone later than eleven o'clock or so, and rarely as late as that."
Were you so wrapped up in your work this afternoon that you did not hear my very entertaining little chat with Comrade Bickersdyke, or did it happen to come under your notice? It did? Then I wonder if you were struck by the singular conduct of Comrade Rossiter? 'I thought it rather decent of him not to give you away to that blighter Bickersdyke. 'Admirably put.
For a moment he looked wonderingly about him, and then a smile came to his face. "That's what I likes about this 'ere life, there ain't no need to get bored. No need for pictcher shows or pubs, there's amusements for you for nothing." And as he got to his feet, a scowl replaced the smile. "I bet I knows the blighter what sent that there bomb," he growled.
Hitherto dear Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open.
He had them sometimes; they came on him all of a sudden, like that, and he couldn't help it; he couldn't stop them; he got them all the worse, all the more ungovernably, when Booty lunged at him, as he did, with his "Dry up, you silly blighter, you!" But that anybody should take pleasure in his ideas, that was an idea, if you like, to Ransome. They got on after that like a house on fire.
And Sally and her companion, as a consequence, for a few moments merely stared at each other helplessly. "Poor darling!" said Sally, finding speech. "Ask him what's the matter." The young man looked at her doubtfully. "You know," he said, "I don't enjoy chatting with this blighter. I mean to say, it's a bit of an effort.
Nana Sahib laughed; his white, even teeth were dazzling as the black-moustached lip lifted. "Sirdar, when I send two Rampore hounds from my kennel to make the kill of a tiger you may tackle Amir Khan. Even if we could crumple up this blighter it's not cricket we need those Pindari chaps but not as dead men. Besides, I detest bloodshed."
Anyway he could die with them, and, rising to his feet, he stumbled over the body, one of the gunners, who emitted a faint moan. A gleam of hope flashed through him. Perhaps this man could tell him how to load the gun. Stooping over the body, he gently shook it, and the soldier opened his eyes. Seeing Lloyd, he closed them again, and in a faint voice said: "Get away, you blighter, leave me alone.
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