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Updated: June 13, 2025
Gold, did I say? Nay, gold's mere dross. The story, which might gratify a cynical observer of human nature, is treated by Browning without a touch of cynicism, except that ascribed to the priest good easy man who has lost a soul and gained an altar.
And Wellgunde follows this part-revelation with the whole secret: The whole world would be his inheritance who should fashion out of the Rhine-gold a magic ring. Vainly Flosshilde tries to silence her sisters. Wellgunde and Woglinde laugh at her prudence, reminding her of the gold's assured safety in view of the condition attached to the creation of the ring.
He was just on the point of settling down again when Cumshaw suddenly sat up. "I'll beat you yet, Bradby!" he cried with startling distinctness. "You're dead now and the gold's mine." His eyes opened and he stared dazedly around him. Bryce was lying prone and snoring away hoggishly. He was fast asleep; there was not the slightest doubt in the mind of the man who watched him so closely.
"And our father planned all this, without saying a word to me about it while we were on our way up here?" "Yes. There might have been some hitch in the gold's coming. Besides the Mayor told him not to tell you." "And he never said anything about the other money he left for me which enabled me to marry at once? Why was this?" "Your mother said he was not to do so."
Paul averted his head, and set one hand before his face. Months ago, when May Gold's perfidy was a new thing, and the whole world was darkened, he had copied these lines from the Poet Laureate with tears, and they had seemed to him a perfect expression of himself. The old man ground out the lines with increasing scorn, and Paul began to grin, and then to shake with suppressed laughter.
"All the gold's being hoarded too," she said, with a crow of delight in her voice. "Faber says that probably our cheques won't be worth that in a few days. He rushed off to London to get gold at his clubs while he can. I had to insist on Hickson taking a cheque. 'Never, I said, 'will I deal with you again never unless you do.... Even then he looked at me almost as if he thought he wouldn't.
"Don't call them don't tell them," Allie whispered. "There's only one condition. I'll take you where that gold's hidden." "Girl, I can make you tell," he replied, menacingly. "No, you can't." "You ain't so smart you think I'll let you go jest for some gold?" he queried. "Gold'll be cheap along this trail soon. An' girls like you are scarce."
But the gold's there, and we've got a man with mineral rights to nab the claim as soon as you give up." "That will be a long while, I imagine," Tom smiled back at the rascal. "Not as long as you may think," laughed Gage harshly. "We've got you now, and we'll get Hazelton and Jim Ferrers, next thing you know.
They were after gold this trip, not seals. "'Cordin' to the agreement," Lund said to Rainey, "the gold's to be split into a hundred shares. One for each sailorman, an' they chip in for the boy. Two for the hunters, two for the cook, four for Bergstrom, the first mate, who died at sea. Twenty for 'ship's share. Fifty shares to be split between Simms an' me."
Here for a visit?" "I'm a buyer," said the plump woman. "Yes; I thought so. I'm the lingerie and infants'-wear buyer for Schiff, Chicago." "A buyer!" The plump woman's eyes jumped uncontrollably again to Sophy Gold's scrambled features. "Well! My name's Miss Morrissey Ella Morrissey. Millinery for Abelman's, Pittsburgh.
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