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Updated: May 12, 2025
She was a deep-dyed aristocrat. The Frenches were generally esteemed to be among the oldest and best families in the county, and the Château plantation, with its wide fields and fine old mansion, was commonly reckoned one of the finest in that section. But no such comparative statement would have satisfied Mam' Lyddy.
And Lindy seems to think when she's put that over that she's said all there was to say on the subject. Sadie protests and threatens and begs. She reminds her what a deep-dyed villain this Carlos party is, and forecasts all sorts of dreadful things that will likely happen to her if she follows him off. But it's all wasted breath.
In the left hand was her skirt. Twining round a pole in the middle was a feather boa. Ranged like the heads of malefactors on Temple Bar were hats emerald and white, lightly wreathed or drooping beneath deep-dyed feathers. And on the carpet were her feet pointed gold, or patent leather slashed with scarlet.
"You deep-dyed, nefarious old villain!" "Old Cupid Ricks, eh? Well, it's lots of fun, Joe, this butting in on love's young dream. And I'm just so constituted I've got to run other people's affairs for them or I wouldn't be happy. I do think, however, that this house party on the old Tyee is about the slickest deal I have ever put over. Joe, they're going to be right comfortable.
The common female blue is indeed intolerable as a wife opinionative and opinionated; and her opinion always is that her husband is wrong. John certainly has a rooted aversion to this whole class. There is the deep blue and the light; the light blues not esteemed not admitted at Almacks. The deep-dyed in the nine times dyed blue is that with which no man dares contend.
He's after her good and hard, though, so it's up to you and me to help her." "In what way?" "She and John Hampton are in love with each other, I understand. Can't we do something to keep Donaster away? He's a deep-dyed villain, that's what he is, and we must not let him bother Miss Randall. He thinks that I'm going to help him out." "How?" Eben hardly knew that he had asked the question.
"I ain't desprit, mister," the boy pleaded, "I ain't a reg'lar crook; dis is me first try-out honest it is!" "But then I prefer to regard you as a deep-dyed desperado you must be quite er sixteen! Consequently it is my duty to croak you on the spot, or hand you over to the police "
No shrewd detectives. No trial for murder. No "heartless coquette." No "deep-dyed villain with a curling mustache." Now if, after this warning, you have the courage to go on, I am not responsible. Hubert said I might print it if I would disguise the names. It came out quite incidentally. We were discussing the woman question. I am a "woman's righter." Hubert the Rev.
Wildeve attended them to the door, beyond which the deep-dyed upward stretch of heath stood awaiting them, an amplitude of darkness reigning from their feet almost to the zenith, where a definite form first became visible in the lowering forehead of Rainbarrow. Diving into the dense obscurity in a line headed by Sam the turf-cutter, they pursued their trackless way home.
She raised a timid and deep-dyed hand, and made known her need. "Please, I have no trial-paper." Miss Lizzie's lips unclosed. Had she waited for this? "Then," said Miss Lizzie, "you will stay after school." Emmy Lou's heart burned, the colour slowly left her cheeks. It was something besides Emmy Lou that looked straight out of Emmy Lou's eyes at Miss Lizzie. It was Judgment.
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