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His emotion-taut face loosened suddenly, seemed to run like melted wax, and congealed again in an expression of utter idiocy. He gargled frothily, and then screamed high and shrill, like a tortured woman. Suddenly he was a lunging maniac, tearing up the street.
"Come, let us go," he said. Back in our apartment again we bathed our racking heads, gargled our parched throats, and washed out our bloodshot eyes, in silence. The whole adventure, though still fresh and vivid in my mind, seemed unreal, like a dream. The choking air, the hissing steam, the ghastly object under the tarpaulin what did it all mean? Who was she?
Adna pondered aloud, his claim-agent instincts alert: "Settlement, eh? What might you call settlement?" "Whatever you'd consider fair. How much would you say was right?" Adna filled his lungs and mouthed the deliciously liquid word as if it were a veritable aurum potabile: "Millions!" "What!" Jim gasped. Adna fairly gargled it again: "Millillions!"
The fop, the epicure, the warbling poet who gargled his throat before murmuring his recondite ditty, the purist, and above all the mock-philosopher with his nostrum for purifying the world, these are all caricatured by Varro in his pithy, good-humoured way; the spirit of the Menippean satires remained, though the form was changed to one more befitting the grave old teacher of wisdom.
He gargled his mouth with concentrated sulphuric and nitric acids, without the smallest injury or discoloration; the nitric acid changed the cuticle to a yellow color; with the acids in this state he rubbed his hands and arms. All these experiments were continued long enough to prove their inefficiency to produce any impression.
They mewed like cats, hissed like snakes, bleated like sheep, roared like toy lions, grunted like pigs, barked like dogs, squawked like geese, and bellowed like baby bulls. Also they gargled their throats like elderly invalids. It was useless trying to sleep; and when I had accomplished such bathing as the chef permitted, I went out to see what was the matter.
"Lily, you ask the same old questions again and again forcing me to come up with new answers to everything from why I don't have a boyfriend to if I take a crap when I get up in the mornings." Rita laughed awkwardly for both were subjects she often asked about. "I want..." She gargled again and spat the mouthwash out. "I like to find out if people's ideas change." "This people doesn't change.
James's, I hear that the Queen did sleep five hours pretty well to-night, and that she waked and gargled her mouth, and to sleep again; but that her pulse beats fast, beating twenty to the King's or my Lady Suffolk's eleven; but not so strong as it was.
He gargled his mouth and throat, took a suck at a divided lemon, and all the while the towels worked like mad, driving oxygen into his lungs to purge the pounding blood and send it back revivified for the struggle yet to come. His heated body was sponged with water, doused with it, and bottles were turned mouth-downward on his head.
"I dunno how to talk much Navajo, but I'm learnin' fast, and she got my meanin'. We understand each other, and we'll do better as time goes on. She calls me 'Emmike'! Sweet, ain't it?" He heaved a sigh, then he gargled a laugh that sounded like boilin' mush. "It ain't often a feller like me gets a swell little dame that worships him. Horses, guns, camp-fires! Can you beat it?"
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