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Updated: May 18, 2025
He had begun to think of Mabe handing him the five-pound box of candy when his attention was distracted by the talk of the men behind him. The man next to him was speaking with hurried nervous intonation. Fuselli could feel his breath on the back of his neck. "I'll be goddamned," the man said, "was you there too? Where d'you get yours?" "In the leg; it's about all right, though." "I ain't.
And that Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty to one. Cruel one! BELLO: Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never prayed before. Both. Kiss. A cockhorse to Banbury cross. I'll ride him for the Eclipse stakes. Off we pop! I'll nurse you in proper fashion. You had enough. I asked before you. Me. Are you not finished with him yet, suckeress? BELLO: Well, I'm not. Wait. Here.
When the other man came back, he burst out laughing. "The last cognac this Skinny guy from the school detachment'll get for many a day. Better drink up strong, Skinny.... They don't have that stuff down on the farm.... School Detachment; I'll be goddamned!" He leaned back in his chair, shaking with laughter. Handsome's face was crimson. Only the zigzag scar over his eye remained white.
"Some cognac!... I got a hangover now," said Fuselli. "I'm goddamned if I can go this much longer." "What?" They were washing their mess-kits in the tub of warm water thick with grease from the hundred mess-kits that had gone before, in front of the shack.
One shot for each of them, and a well-earned rest for a pair of poor sinners, be damned to them!" "I couldn't get a single one of their generals!" said a swarthy man who sat in one corner between the wall and the bar, holding his rifle between his outstretched legs. "I sighted one: a fellow with a hell of a lot of gold plastered all over him. His gold chevrons shone like a Goddamned sunset.
He'd paid attention to the plumbing and flunked passion. Joe slung the aluminum case across the room onto the mattress. The tools, in their foam cushion, didn't even rattle. "I kept my Goddamned Thing in my Goddamned Pants, Batman!" Batman maintained a dignified silence.
"Why is he turned? Who is he looking at?" "Maybe if I knew that, I could paint the goddamned thing." "Oh," Patrick said. "I like it so far, anyway. Pretty intense." "Hendrik, are you there with Patrick?" Mrs. Van Slyke's voice came loudly through an intercom. Hendrik made a face, went over to the door, and pressed a plastic button. "Yes, Dear." "Parker is here for Patrick."
It's up to you to find some way to get it and Goddamned quick, too. I don't like to play about; I get mad when I'm crossed.... By God, didn't I tell you I wouldn't stand for any backchat? You won't bring it to me, eh? Well, take this...." A heavy blow sent the waiter reeling to the floor. "That's the sort of man I am, General Macias! I'm clean-shaven, eh? Not a hair on my chin? Do you know why?
"Perhaps you'll deny it was because you had stolen a watch and some diamond rings." "Ha, ha, ha! That's rich! But you're worse, my lad; you ran away from your hometown because you poisoned your sweetheart." "You're a Goddamned liar!" "Yes you did! And don't try and deny it! You fed her Spanish fly and..." Venancio's shout of protest was drowned out in the loud laughter of the others.
"Say, are we goin' towards the front?" "Goddamned if I know." "Ain't no front within miles." Men's sentences came shortly through their heavy breathing. The column shifted over to the side of the road to avoid a train of motor trucks going the other way. Chrisfield felt the heavy mud spurt up over him as truck after truck rumbled by.
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