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Take it and go your way.” The Pole gazed open-eyed at Mitya, with a searching look. “Three thousand, panie?” He exchanged glances with Vrublevsky. “Three, panovie, three! Listen, panie, I see you’re a sensible man. Take three thousand and go to the devil, and Vrublevsky with you—d’you hear? But, at once, this very minute, and for ever. You understand that, panie, for ever.
“No, you’ve contracted for the job and turned out a scamp. You’re a scoundrel!” “I assure you you’re mistaken,” cried Mitya, wringing his hands in despair. The peasant still stroked his beard, and suddenly screwed up his eyes cunningly. “No, you show me this: you tell me the law that allows roguery. D’you hear? You’re a scoundrel! Do you understand that?”
I gave you a pack and you hid it. You played with marked cards! I could send you to Siberia for playing with false cards, d’you know that, for it’s just the same as false banknotes....” And going up to the sofa he thrust his fingers between the sofa back and the cushion, and pulled out an unopened pack of cards. “Here’s my pack unopened!”
"There’s a better game than that," he said, his articulation very thick; "but it takes nerve if you’ve got it, you spindle-legged little cockney!" Flint struck at him aimlessly. "I’ve got nerve," he muttered, "plenty of nerve, old top! What d’you want? I’m your man; I’ll go you eh, what?" "Go on with the game, I tell you!" bawled Carfax. Gary swung around: "Wait till I explain " "No, don’t wait!
I warrant you were frighted, wer’n’t you, last night, when it blew but a capful of wind?” “A capful d’you call it?” said I; “’twas a terrible storm.” “A storm, you fool you,” replies he; “do you call that a storm? why, it was nothing at all; give us but a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such a squall of wind as that; but you’re but a fresh-water sailor, Bob.
They’re so anxious to meet you. I’d ’a sent over for you, but Belle ” “See here, Fanny, what the mischief was Dave Hosmer doing here to-day, and going down town with you and all that sort o’ thing?” Fanny flushed uneasily. “Have you seen the evening paper?” she asked. “How d’you want us to see the paper? we just come from the matinée.”
Right now they’ve a lot to be topped—want to gentle ’em some and trade ’em south into Mexico. If you ride for Don Cazar, nobody’s goin’ to ask too many questions." "How d’you know he’ll sign me on?" Anse studied his own unkempt if now clean reflection in the shaving mirror on the wall. "I sure don’t look like no bargain." "You will when we’re through with you," Drew began. The Texan swung around.
“I guess I’ll go sit with Mrs. Laferm, d’you think she’ll mind?” “No, she’ll be glad to have you.” Fanny crossed over to go join Thérèse. She liked to be with her when there was no danger of interruption from Melicent, and Grégoire went wandering aimlessly about the plantation. He staked great hopes on what the night might bring for him.
The landlord, who had been for some time past inquisitively peeping in at the door, hearing shouts and guessing that his guests were quarreling, at once entered the room. “What are you shouting for? D’you want to split your throat?” he said, addressing Vrublevsky, with surprising rudeness. “Animal!” bellowed Pan Vrublevsky. “Animal? And what sort of cards were you playing with just now?
‘Pooh! d’you call cutting up a few cakes work?’ was the answer.
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