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Updated: June 5, 2025
All at once this post of Conjuror's House, a month in the wilderness as it was, seemed very small and tame and civilized for the simple reason that Death did not always compass it about. "It was very cold then," said Ned Trent, "and very hard. At night we had no other shelter than our blankets, and we could not keep a fire because the spruce burned too fast and threw too many coals.
There was never a word of a raven or an eagle, that I'll swear, now. 'You deny that there was ever a word of "All for Love"? Speak, madam. 'Their conjuror's rigmarole! she murmured, huffing. 'As if I listened to their nonsense! 'Does the Duchess of Dewlap dare to give me the lie? said Mr. Beamish. 'That's not my title, and you know it, she retorted. 'What's this? the angry beau sang out.
A friend at my side, a young Guardsman, took a cameo ring from his finger, and asked for a description of the figures in relief. There was a pause. The woman was evidently perplexed. She confessed at last that she was unable to answer. The spectators murmured. My friend began to laugh. The conjuror's bread was at stake, but he was equal to the occasion.
Then this post of Conjuror's House feasted and danced, undertook gay excursions, discussed in public or private conclave weighty matters, grave and reverend advices, cautions, and commands. They went. Desolation again crept in. The girl dreamed. She was trying to remember. Far-off, half-forgotten visions of brave, courtly men, of gracious, beautiful women, peopled the clouds of her imaginings.
She steadied herself against the dresser. "Shut the door!" Aunt Amy obeyed. But she shut herself inside the door. "What do you want?" Mary never wasted words on Amy "Ah!" With a motion so swift that it seemed like a conjuror's miracle, Aunt Amy had slipped from her stand by the door, snatched up the open box, and was back again before the choking cry on the other's lips had formed itself.
The superintendent looked at Looney. But Looney in turning round had caught sight of the dog at his side, and was gazing at it open-mouthed, as a countryman gazes at a pigeon produced from a conjuror's hat. Suddenly he pounced upon it as though he was afraid it would fly away, and kept it close hidden under his hands.
We've been blown up about forty thousand feet! We're all one conjuror's watch inside! My mate's arm's broke; my engineer's head's cut open; my Ray went out when the engines smashed; and... and... for pity's sake give me my height, Captain! We doubt we're dropping." "Six thousand eight hundred. Can you hold it?"
It was Lady Bothwell who had suggested this species of disguise, partly to avoid observation as they should go to the conjuror's house, and partly in order to make trial of his penetration, by appearing before him in a feigned character.
Among other shifts and devices with which the robber chief had become familiar, he had learned the conjuror's method of so arranging his limbs while being bound, that he could untie his bonds in a marvellous manner.
An invitation perhaps; the age of miracles is not yet past don't they see spirits in a conjuror's room in Regent Street? from Oswald, too; by Jove, it must be an invitation. And he ran his eye down the page rapidly, to see if there was any mention of little Miss Butterfly. Yes; there was her name on the second sheet; what could her brother have to say to him about her?
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