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"Ha!" said Mr. Greyne, still in the major's, voice. "There you are!" "Behold me, monsieur." "That's good." "Wicked, monsieur." "Well, let's be off to the mosque." One of the chasseurs a child of eight who was thankful that he knew no better burst into a piping laugh. The waiters turned hastily away, and the German-Swiss porters retreated to the bureau with some activity.
Gazing with terror-stricken eyes over the crumbling rampart of the Kasbah, she saw the city far below her, the lights of the streets, the lights of the ships in harbour. She heard the music of a bugle, and wished she were a Zouave safe in barracks. She wished she were a German-Swiss porter, a merry chasseur anything but Mrs. Eustace Greyne.
He had written of their coming, but the picnic had been decided upon after the arrival of his letter. Mrs. Sieppe explained this to him. She was an immense old lady with a pink face and wonderful hair, absolutely white. The Sieppes were a German-Swiss family. "We go to der park, Schuetzen Park, mit alle dem childern, a little eggs-kursion, eh not soh?
The staff, the language spoken, the methods of business, the political sympathies, the aims of the operations were all German. Out of the forty-three permanent members of the staff, thirty were German subjects, six Austrians, two German-Swiss, two Belgians, one was a Dutchman, one Turk, and there was a solitary Russian.
He had dined in the old house in Holland Street; served by Frederick, the German-Swiss valet, who, some weeks previously, hearing of his intended departure, had announced his intention of "bettering himself," had given Mrs.
They hate walking so much that they mount horses just to go down and pick up shells on the beach a few yards off. A white man was living amongst these Patagonians; a miserable, decrepit-looking fellow, who said he came from the United States, but he spoke English very imperfectly, and the explorers took him to be a German-Swiss.
This supposition is easily confirmed: by observing the field we find that the sheet is everywhere drawing away from the cliffs, leaving a deep fissure between the névé and the precipices. This crevice is called by the German-Swiss guides the Bergschrund. Passage over it is often one of the most difficult feats to accomplish which the Alpine explorer has to undertake.
She wore the costume of a peasant of the canton bordering the wire; and she looked like that type of German-Swiss handsome, sensual, bad-tempered, but not stupid. "Well," he said in French, "you can explain yourself now, mademoiselle. Allons! Who and what are you? Dites!" "What are you? A robber?" she gasped, jerking her arm free. "If you thought so why didn't you call for help?" "And be shot at?
He saw the impending disaster clearly, in its full meaning; and Sigismond Planus's wrinkled, solemn face rose before him with its sharply cut features, whose absence of expression softened their harshness, and his light German-Swiss eyes, which had haunted him for many weeks with their impassive stare. Well, no, he had not the hundred thousand francs, nor did he know where to get them.
She even strove feebly to sit up on her chair, a German-Swiss porter of enormous size assisting her. "But Monsieur Greyne is out." "Out?" "Yes, madame. Monsieur Greyne is always out at night." The eyes of the little chasseur who knew no better began to twinkle. Mrs. Forbes gave a slight cough. Tears filled the novelist's eyes.
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