Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 27, 2025
"Next day this is what Zillah reported. Gurney. He was dressed just as I saw him last night, black coat and grey trousers, his hat on, and a roll of paper like manuscript in his hand, and he said, "Oh! good-afternoon;" and then he glanced all round the kitchen and he glanced at me with an awful look, as if he was going to murder me, and said, "Warm afternoon, isn't it?" and then "Good-afternoon," or "Good-day," I am not sure which, and then turned and went up the stairs again; and after standing thunderstruck a minute, I ran to the foot of the stairs and saw just like a boot disappearing on the top step. She said, 'I think I must be going crazy.
"Oh," cried Brunow, "I'm not going to debase myself with quarrelling with a man like you! You have my opinion of you, and you know how you have earned it. That's enough for me. Good-afternoon." He turned, but I was at the door before him. "That may be enough for you, my dear Brunow, but it isn't enough for me.
Wouldn't go so far as to say that, sir, 'cos yer see, I'm feeflee good at spottin', but it was a dark night." Mr. Downing rose to go. "Well," he said, "the search is now considerably narrowed down, considerably! It is certain that the boy was one of the boys in Mr. Outwood's house." "Young monkeys!" interjected the sergeant helpfully. "Good-afternoon, sergeant." "Good-afternoon to you, sir."
'Miss Foster she says her name is. Better show her in here, hadn't I? The old woman's in your room now. It's nearly half-past six. 'Yes, said Henry; 'show her in here. Foster? Foster? I don't know His heart began to beat like an engine under his waistcoat. And then Miss Foster tripped in. And she was Goldenhair! 'Good-afternoon, Mr.
Just as I was wondering why it seemed impossible to be holy and cheerful at the same time, there came a pad-padding down the corridor. The next moment the matron stood in the doorway. She was a mountainous, red-faced woman, with warts on her nose. "Good-afternoon," I said, sweetly. Then I began to explain my errand once more. Criticism of the Home? No indeed, I assured her.
Though white-haired and somewhat bent he was still slender and handsome, a most worthy figure against the background of the red brick house, whose weathered walls contrasted happily with the blossoming shrubs about their base, and with the green of lawn and trees. "Good-afternoon, Isabel.
Conolly did not, to my knowledge, disburse a single fraction. She did not ask me to give her money. Had she done so, I should have complied at once." "Thank you. Thats all right: she will be able to hold out until she hears from us. Good-afternoon."
She looked like a bit of the old plantation life, summoned up from the past by the wave of a magician's wand, as the poet's fancy had called into being the gracious shapes of which Mr. Ryder had just been reading. He rose from his chair and came over to where she stood. "Good-afternoon, madam," he said. "Good-evenin', suh," she answered, ducking suddenly with a quaint curtsy.
Jimmy Phoebus had the name of being descended from a Greek pirate, or patriot, who had settled on the Eastern Shore, and Phoebus looked it yet, with his rich brown complexion, broad head, and Mediterranean eyes. "Good-afternoon, Mr. Milburn!" spoke Jimmy, loud and careless. "Good-afternoon, Mr. Phoebus. Gentlemen, good-afternoon!"
"Straight up the road past the orchard about a quarter of a mile old iron gates can't miss it. Good-afternoon, Mademoiselle also Monsieur." Following his directions, we came presently to the gates, which were rusty and broken-hinged, with traces of old gilding still showing faintly here and there upon their battered scrolls and bosses.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking