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"He told you he was held up that his skull was cracked, didn't he?" The Countess threw back her head and laughed unrestrainedly. "My! But you men are fools! Now, then, who do you suppose got young Phillips' money? Use your wits, men." There was a great craning of necks, a momentary hush, the while Jim McCaskey rolled his head loosely, opened his eyes, and stared wildly about.

"So my wife was in the sail-locker with this convict, and he was making up to her? Well, well!" "You know that creature is lying, Angus!" broke in another voice. Aye, and I very nearly gave myself away by craning my head to see the speaker. For this was the lady's voice, hot with anger and resentment and loathing.

Their arrival created an interesting bustle, a buzz of comment, a craning of necks flattery accepted by the young women with ostensible unconcern, a cliché of their caste.

"I'm glad I told you." She thought: "It isn't so bad. Whatever happens he'll be here." The sewing-party had broken up. She could see them going before her on the road, by the garden wall, by the row of nine ash-trees in the field, round the curve and over Morfe Bridge. Bobbing shoulders, craning necks, stiff, nodding heads in funny hats, turning to each other. When she got home she found Mrs.

"The gentleman from from Elkington, Mr. Krebs." There was a craning of necks, a staring, a tittering. I burned with vicarious shame as Krebs stood there awkwardly, his hand still holding the desk. There were cries of "louder" when he began; some picked up their newspapers, while others started conversations. The Speaker rapped with his gavel, and I failed to hear the opening words.

Villon, craning over the balustrade, saw him and touched the girl on the arm to call her attention to the new-comer. "Is that he?" he whispered. The girl shook her head. "No, no. Thibaut is a big man. Yet that figure seems familiar." The stranger came to the table and stooped between Louis and Tristan. Louis looked up and grinned recognition of his barber, Olivier le Dain.

What on earth could be the matter? She heard voices outside and craning her soft white neck, she saw Cousin Emelene, with her gray kitten under one arm and a large suitcase in her other hand, coming up the steps. There was a beatific expression in her gentle, faded eyes, and her lips were quivering uncertainly.

Others came, blinking into the ruddy evening glow, craning their necks to see, and from the wretched tavern a lank lout stumbled forth, rifle shouldered, pewter a-slop, to learn the news that had brought us hither at that hour. "It is mist," said a woman; but her voice trembled as she said it. "It is smoke," growled Van Horn. "Read it, you who can."

The submerged four hundred and seventy had had time to rub their eyes and get their breath, to realize that their champion had dealt Mr. Bascom a blow to cleave his helm, and a roar of mingled laughter and exultation arose in the back seats, and there was more craning to see the glittering eyes of the Honourable Brush and the expressions of his two companions-in-arms. Mr.

I got the camera ready, and was arranging deliberately to take his picture in his favourite and peculiar attitude for threnodic song, when all at once he began craning his neck and yelling, as he had done during the fight. I looked where his nose pointed, and here was the Grizzly coming on straight toward me not charging, but striding along, as though he meant to come the whole distance.