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Updated: May 11, 2025
She had missed the open window, the four-foot drop to the floor, and a neighboring aquarium stocked with voracious fish: surely the gods of pollywogs were kind to me. The great fins were gone dissolved into blobs of dull pink; the tail was a mere stub, the feet drawn close, and a glance at her head showed that Guinevere had become a frog almost within an hour.
And there were dark, horribly formless blobs lurching outward and rising with monstrous bulk against the background of the stars! "Alan! Come, lad!" With a prayer for Glora trembling on his lips, Alan plunged into the dim phosphorescent gloom of the tunnel.
"From funnel-rim to water-line she was grey an' ghost-like, lookin' like a boat seen in an ugly dream. Every scrap o' paint had been burned from her sides, or else was hangin' down from the bare iron like flaps o' skin. She had been flayed alive, an' she showed it. Some of her derricks were gone, the ropes charred an' the wires endin' in blobs o' melted metal.
"From the heat in here you'd think we were getting close to the real, old-fashioned hell instead of an artificial, insect-made one. What are all these nauseating-looking blobs of lard lying about here, anyway?" Denny told him. "Which is the reason for the heat," he concluded. "Jim, it's twenty degrees warmer in here than it is outdoors. How how can these insects regulate the temperature like that?
Beneath the railway bridge, in front of the Underground station, the cab-rank cried them on with sardonic view-halloos; and a bobby remarked them with suspicion, turning to watch as they plunged round the corner and across the wide Embankment. The Thames appeared before them, a river of ink on whose burnished surface lights swam in long winding streaks and oily blobs.
A painter who can hardly move arm or fingers will neither sweep nor wiggle. He must paint, if he is to paint at all, in blobs and smears and patches and soft strokes; and it is out of these that Renoir's latest works are built up. "Built up" the expression is absurd.
"Everything in good shape. Except the chimney of the lamp. Where it bulges, there are caramel specks and blobs of soot, but I can't get the thing out; I don't want to burn my fingers; and anyway, with the shade lowered a bit she won't notice. "Well, how shall I proceed when she does come?" he asked himself, sinking into an armchair. "She enters. Good. I take her hands. I kiss them.
The three sunlets of flame merged together and dripped yellow blobs of light into the darkness. They grew into a great soap bubble that turned to topaz. Like something moving in a dream it gained upon The Nebula, until it was pacing beside them a little larger now and still growing dwarfing them and filling half the screen.
He is fresh from the mud of the Flanders trenches, and all his possessions and his kit are on his back, so that he is more like a beast of burden than the natty creature old tradition taught us to think a soldier must always be. On his boots there are still dried blobs of mud from some hole in France that is like a crater in hell.
"Bet you a penny whistle there are at least two women in The Towers who will make bigger blobs than these," he said. A penny whistle, as a wager, is what Police Constable Farrow would term "unusual." "Quite so," said the Inspector thoughtfully. Winter caught Furneaux's eye, and frowned. There was nothing to be gained by taking a rise out of the local constabulary.
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