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"You fibber. I think he's the limit. I never saw a fellow so stuck on himself." "Oh, I know! I know now why you carry home twice as many books as you used to since he got charge of the library." "I'm reading the Lady of the Lake and you know it. That's why I stopped in to-night." "I know why you're always writing compositions since you have him in English. Lilly's stuck on Lindsley."
"Oh, you fibber!" Toni was not going to stand that. "They were mine, and you took them off my plate when I wasn't looking!" "I'm afraid they aren't much good to anyone now," said Owen with a smile. "They are pretty well squashed, Toni, and I fancy your frock's got the worst of the encounter!"
Then Walter realized what a girl's eyes may do in the matter of "imploring." He deliberately stepped over to Maud's side. "Oh, some valuable papers were taken from the mailbag," volunteered Clip. "And we thought the strange men might have found them." "You cheerful fibber," whispered Jack. "Come on, if you expect to get to Cartown to-day." "How can we, now?" asked Clip in an undertone.
His passengers were duly interested. She nudged the lugubrious Truxton when the man spoke of the onions. "What a fibber! I hate onions." "She is to be married to the Count Vos Engo; a fine lad, sir. Now she is gone, I don't know what he will do. Suicide, mayhap. Many is the time I have cautioned her not to ride in the hills without a strong guard. These bandits are getting very bold."
Woe to him who sees them!" "I gather that they are expert musicians and that they sing like nightingales." "It is also said of them that they like to pilfer food like cats. Yes, Karadeucq, you may laugh but you should believe me; I am no fibber," observed his sister indignantly.
'No, Frank, no! 'O Maude, you fibber! Remove those tears instantly. He knelt down beside her and helped. 'Better now? 'Yes, dearest, I am quite happy. 'Tears all gone? 'Quite gone. 'Well, then, explain! 'I didn't mean to tell you, Frank! She gave the prettiest, most provocative little wriggles as her secret was drawn from her. 'I wanted to do it without your knowing.
Sir Peter seized his hat and walked forth, not to deliberate whether to fib or not to fib to the wife of his bosom, but to consider what kind of fib would the most quickly sink into the bosom of his wife. A few turns to and fro on the terrace sufficed for the conception and maturing of the fib selected; a proof that Sir Peter was a practised fibber.
He looked younger. There was color in his face. "Kathleen, I'll take charge of Mr. Dorn now, if you will allow me that pleasure." "Lenorry, I sure hate to give him up. We sure had a fine time." "Did he like 'Many Waters'?" "Well, if he didn't he's a grand fibber," replied Kathleen. "But he did. You can't fool me. I thought I'd never get him back to the house."
She turned and faced him, cheeks flushed, eyes flashing. "Oh, you hypocrite! You monstrous fibber!" she cried, on a tone of jubilation, looking daggers. "Why? What's up? What's the matter?" asked John, at fault. "How could you have humbugged me so?" she wailed, in delight, reverting to the window. "Anyhow, she's charming. She's made for the part. I couldn't pray for a more promising heroine."
When my turn came to be described, Miss Maitland and Mannering were just as much amused, but I am afraid that my attempt to participate in their mirth was rather forced. When the story was done, Miss Maitland rose from her seat at her father's feet, and, putting a hand on each of his shoulders "You dear, delightful old fibber!" she remarked. "I don't believe you dreamed that at all. You couldn't."
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