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That moment one could understand why he was sometimes called "Terrible Larry"; just then he looked a devastating explosion that was still unexploded. "What's your game down here, Hunt?" he demanded harshly. "My game?" repeated the big painter. "I don't get you." "Yes, you do! You're down here posing as a boob who smears up canvases!" "What's wrong with that?"
The result is you turn out an undeveloped or over-developed boob, too proud to work and not able to take a real man's place in the world because he hasn't been taught how. And in the course of time he marries a female boob who has been raised according to the same general specifications, and nine times out of ten she's too refined to be bothered with a family.
"Art hell!" sneered Clancy; and then he laughed coarsely, as, his fingers prodding under the miscellany of articles on the table, he suddenly held up a hypodermic syringe. "This is your art, my bucko! Why, you poor boob, don't you think I know you! Cocaine's the one thing on earth you live for. You're stewed to the eyes with it now. Here, just watch me!
If the gun's gone, I'll frame Lindsay for the chair. It's Salt Creek for his." He lost no time in getting into touch with Gorilla Dave, who was under arrest at the station house. From him he learned the story of the killing of Collins. One whispered detail of it filled him with malicious glee. "The boob! He'll go to the death chair sure if I can frame him.
Yes, there was no doubt about it, he was a boob where women were concerned! Peter began to plead for himself, Really it wasn't his fault because Nell had got a hold on him. In the Temple of Jimjambo, when he was only a kid, he had been desperately in love with her. She was not only beautiful, she was so smart; she was the smartest woman he had ever known.
"I feel like such a boob not to be able to make it out," Dick answered with evident reluctance at confessing himself floored. "But we'll have to tell him O'Connel called. We've got to do that anyhow; so he may as well know the rest of it," Walter persisted. "All right. We'll hunt him up. I warn you, though, that he will josh us most unmercifully.
"But it may be years before we have a couple of servants. Aren't we ever going to entertain, until then?" "I don't know anything about that. But I tell you I won't have them thinking that we're hard up. I'll take them to a restaurant somewhere, and show that little boob a square meal!"
What kind of a man is that to be managing a mine or to be partners with a big banker like Eells? No, he walked out of camp without a cent to his name and I picked him up Tuesday over at Furnace Crick. All he had was his bed and a couple of canteens and a little jerked beef in a sack, but to hear the poor boob talk you'd think he was a millionaire he had the world by the tail.
You pick out this here big stiff" he waved his passionate hand at the paralyzed Ramsey "you pick out a boob like that for the Choimun side, a poor fish that gits stagefright so bad he don't know whether he's talkin' or dead; or else he fakes it; because he's a speaker so bum it looks more to me like he was faking.
When I first found the shack it was full of impressionistic studies that looked as though the poor boob stood on his head to paint. I made a burnt offering of the whole lot to outraged Nature." He opened a cupboard revealing a quantity of provisions.
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