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He fitted his key into the front-door lock, but his hand trembled so that it would not turn; and for a racking moment he stood there vainly pushing a weak knee against the panel, and his breath came out of his throat in a wheeze. The maid-of-all-work, straggly and down at the heels, answered his fumbling at the lock and opened the door to him. "You, Mr. Izzy!"
Kendric opened vest and shirt and after a moment of fumbling drew forth and slammed down on the table a money belt that bulged and struck like a leaden bar. "Gold and U. S. bank notes," he announced. "Keep your eye on me, Señor Don Ruiz Rios de Mexico, while I count 'em."
Only a strong civilization, when such foes are about, can preserve us. And our present efforts to cope with such beings are fumbling and slow. We haven't the habit of candidly facing this danger. We read our biological history but we don't take it in. We blandly assume we were always "intended" to rule, and that no other outcome could even be considered by Nature.
In a little, it died away, and in the brief silence that seemed to ensue, we heard a slobby fumbling at the teak cover; but it was well secured, and we had no immediate cause for fear. The Two Faces Of the remainder of that night, I have but a confused memory. At times we heard the door shaken behind the great chests; but no harm came to it.
Those moments of agony in which the imagination oscillates between the past and the future, devouring the one, fumbling the other, had been endured, and resignation failed to bring its balm. She had believed with a faith so firm that now in its demolition there was nothing left—an abyss merely, where light was not.
Then the old man remembered, understood, and, reddening with anger, said: "Ah! he saw me, did he, the rascal? He saw me picking up this string here, M'sieu le Maire." And fumbling at the bottom of his pocket, he pulled out of it the little end of string.
Delcasse, who at that time was in charge of the French foreign office. He had in his pocket an ultimatum, that is to say, a final notice to France that she must give in or England would declare war on her. As he walked into Delcasse's presence, he began fumbling with the top button of his coat. "Don't touch that button," said Delcasse quickly. "Drop your hand.
He led the way up an outside staircase at the end of the Brick Row, and, after fumbling a long time in several deep pockets, produced a huge rusty iron key, and unlocked the door at the head of the stairs. A very strange life that key had led in pockets.
The Cap'n became embarrassed. He began to fuss with his necktie, as if tying it tighter would assist him to hold on to his frown. He felt the frown slipping, but it was a point of honor with him to retain it. "She WILL be a sailin' vessel when she gets her sticks into her," said the Cap'n, fumbling with his neckwear. "Let me fix that for you," said the lady.
There was another burst of cheering at this, but it was almost drowned by the loud rattling of the rain which was now falling on the lantern light. "Monsignor," cried my father, pitching his voice still higher, "what's that you were saying in Rome about the mills of God?" Fumbling his jewelled cross and smiling blandly the Bishop gave my father the familiar quotation. "Truth enough, too.
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