United States or Sudan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He turned to Lucilla, and raised her gently from her chair. "Come into your own rooms with me, my poor little Feench. I shall see if I dare take off your bandages to-day." Lucilla clasped her hands entreatingly. "You promised!" she said. "Oh, Herr Grosse, you promised to let me use my eyes to-day!" "Answer me this!" retorted the German.
He crossed the room to Lucilla, and called to Nugent to follow him. "Open the shutters," he said. "Light-light-light, and plenty of him, for my lofely Feench!" Nugent opened the shutters, beginning with the lower window, and ending with the window at which Lucilla was sitting. Acting on this plan, he had only to wait where he was, to place himself close by her to be the first object she saw.
When I am away from her gif me your sympathies: I so much want it I sweat with anxiousness for young Miss. Your damn-mess-fix about those two brodders is a sort of perpetual blisters on my mind. Instead of snoring peaceably all night in my nice big English beds, I roll wide awake on my pillows, fidgeting for Feench. I am here to-day before my time. For what? For to try her eyes you think?
"I thought you had arranged not to see Lucilla again till the end of the week." Grosse's eyes glared at me through his spectacles with a dignity and gravity worthy of Mr. Finch himself. "Shall I tell you something?" he said. "You see sitting at your side a lost surgeon-optic. I shall die soon. Put on my tombs, if you please, The malady which killed this German mans was Lofely Feench.
"I put you out don't I?" said Grosse. "You can't shut your eyes, my lofely Feench, while I am looking can you?" She turned red then pale again. I began to be afraid she would burst out crying. Grosse managed her to perfection. The tact of this rough, ugly, eccentric old man was the most perfect tact I have ever met with. "Shut your eyes," he said soothingly. "It is the right ways to learn.
Between pain and anxiety, his eyes were wilder, his broken English was more grotesque than ever. When I appeared at the door of his room and said good morning in the frenzy of his impatience he shook his fist at me. "Good morning go-damn!" he roared out, "Where? where? where is Feench?" I told him where we believed Lucilla to be.
He suddenly wheeled round to Lucilla, tucked up his cuffs, laid a forefinger of each hand on either side of her forehead, and softly turned down her eyelids with his two big thumbs. "I pledge you my word as surgeon-optic," he resumed, "my knife shall let the light in here. This lofable-nice girls shall be more lofable-nicer than ever. My pretty Feench must be first in her best goot health.
She must next gif me my own ways with her and then one, two, three ping! my pretty Feench shall see!" He lifted Lucilla's eyelids again as he said the last word glared fiercely at her through his spectacles gave her the loudest kiss, on the forehead, that I ever heard given in my life laughed till the room rang again and returned to his post as sentinel on guard over the Mayonnaise.
For the second time, though I felt the longing in me to look at him, I shrank from doing it. Herr Grosse put his watch back in his pocket. "The minutes is passed," he said. "Will you come into the odder rooms? Will you understand that I cannot properly examine you before all these peoples? Say, my lofely Feench Yes? or No?" "No!" she cried obstinately, with a childish stamp of her foot.
"Soh!" cried Grosse, dropping her hand with a sudden outbreak of annoyance and surprise. "Who has been frightening my pretty Feench? Why these cold trembles? these sinking pulses? Some of you tell me what does it mean?" Here was my opportunity! I tried my idea on the spot. "It means," I said, "that there are too many people in this room. We confuse her, and frighten her.
Word Of The Day