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I say, is that your own?" guffawed Devitt from his place on the hearthrug. "Why shouldn't it be?" asked Miss Spraggs demurely. "Anyway," continued Mrs Devitt impatiently, "she wishes to know if I am in want of a companion, or anything of that sort, as she has a teacher she is unable to keep owing to her school having fallen on bad times."
Indeed, who should know it better than you, who, up to the outbreak of this war, were a regular lady's man? You've studied the fair sex, my boy, and now's the time to take advantage of that study." Stuart guffawed.
"Have you read it?" said his wife, uncontrollably. "Read it? Of course not it's just this minute come. I say, Bishop, you're not going ?" "Not till I've heard this," said the Bishop, settling himself in his chair with an indulgent smile. His niece glanced at him despairingly. "Don't let John's nonsense detain you," she entreated. "Detain him? That's good," guffawed Fetherel.
Responsible to no one but his contractor, he hated the contractor and he hated his job. He was great in his place, brutal with fist and foot, a gleaner of results from hard men at a hard time. He won gold from Durade, or, as Fresno guffawed to a comrade, he had been allowed to win it. Durade picked his man. He had big schemes and he needed Mull.
You may cover the walls of your own rooms with them, if you please: but I have brought four stone-workers with me, who, according to the judgment of the Court, are to erase all those pictures." "Genuine iconoclasm!" guffawed Topándy, who found great amusement in arousing a whole county against him by his caprices. "Iconoclasts! Picture-destroyers!"
History tells us that on first seeing Maggie in her plaidie he smiled, and that the second time he saw her he guffawed, so light-hearted was he. One day he called at the manse, chucked Maggie under the chin, and ate one of her baps. Eight years later he came again, and, after tweaking her nose, ate a little haggis. By then something seemed to have told her that he was her hero.
"No matter, sir, no matter!" he went on hurriedly and with apparent composure when both the boys at the counter guffawed and even the innkeeper smiled "No matter, I am not confounded by the wagging of their heads; for everyone knows everything about it already, and all that is secret is made open. And I accept it all, not with contempt, but with humility. So be it! So be it!
Voices from behind the ridge announced the coming of the carpenter and the two "identifiers." The latter, Mr. Emulous Baker and Mr. "Squealer" Wixon, were on the broad grin. "Yup, that's him," announced Mr. Wixon. "Hello, Shavin's! Got you took up for a German spy, have they? That's a good one! haw, haw!" "Do you know him?" asked the major. "Know him?" Mr. Wixon guffawed again.
"T' church clock's t' one to go by, anyhow," the sexton's son maintained. His friend guffawed aloud. "And it's a reight 'un to go by too, my sakes! when thee feyther shifts t' time back'ards and for'ards every Sunday morning to suit hissen." "To suit hissen! To suit t' ringers, ye mean!" said the sexton's son.
"Level and sightly, as you can see as soon as the tide's full out. Straight in line for the extension of Clay Street. Can't be beat." "What's your price?" asked Mr. Grigsby, with a wink at Charley. "You can have that fine lot for only $10,000 cash. It's worth $15,000." Mr. Adams threw back his head and laughed, and laughed. Even Mr. Grigsby guffawed. And Charley was indignant.
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