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Herter was called to the scene, because he had pretended to be up in the latest American flying 'stunts. The minute he saw the wreckage an inspiration jumped into his head. "He confessed himself puzzled by the mysterious details, thought them important, and said: 'It seems to me this resembles the engine and wings of the James Beckett invention I heard so much about.
It is my task to disappoint his mistress, as he terms her, though it must be confessed that she does not sleep at her post." During the ten succeeding minutes, our foiled adventurer had leisure, no less than motive, to feel how necessary is success to any project whose means admit of dispute.
"Wasn't that the best thing to do?" she asked. He didn't know. Perhaps. He confessed he could not have done it. Not he. His flesh and blood could not have stood it. He would have felt he must see what was coming. Then he remembered that the flare might have scorched her face, and expressed his concern. "A bit. Nothing to hurt. Smell the singed hair?" There was a sort of gaiety in her tone.
"Wrong time of the day to come for it, half-past eleven in the morning," explained the sub-editor. "What's the matter with you?" asked the Babe. "Feeling very cross," confessed the sub-editor. The childlike face of the Babe expressed sympathetic inquiry.
So they became friendly, and the young lord confessed it was his family that had urged him to the attack; and Kirby abode at the castle, and all three were happy, in perfect honour, I am convinced: but such was not the opinion of the Cressetts and Levelliers.
I was now convinced we had come on a fool's errand that was like to end evilly for us, but, being a fool, I held my peace and said nothing to Ajax, who confessed later that if I had spoken he would have seconded a motion to retreat. We advanced, sensible that we were being trapped: a psychological fact not without interest.
These are motives enough to satisfy the most inquisitive mind, I should think." Marcus said this with an attempt at a light laugh. But there was one motive not yet confessed a motive which could hardly be called a motive, for it lay dim and half-formed within his brain. He had never, in his moments of self-inquisition, acknowledged its existence to himself.
The frog, it must be confessed, seemed to view this arrangement with great indifference, making no struggle, and sitting solemnly, with his great unwinking eyes, to be sucked in at the leisure of his captor.
You will wonder, you may well wonder at such a declaration; and again that severe renunciation with which you wounded me, will tremble on your lips, Oh there let it stop! nor let the air again be agitated with sounds so discordant! In that cruel and heart-breaking moment when I tore myself from you at Delvile Castle, I confessed to you the reason of my flight, and I determined to see you no more.
"Oh, yes thank you!" said Major Monkey. "I'm quite well again." Mr. Crow's sharp eyes pierced him through and through. "What are you holding behind you?" he asked bluntly. The Major saw that he was caught. "It's my breakfast," he confessed, giving Mr. Crow a quick glance at what was in his hand. "I I found it," he said. "Wasn't I lucky?" "A bird's egg!" Mr. Crow exclaimed disapprovingly.
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