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Updated: May 14, 2025
Several minutes went by before it was repeated. Then I heard it again and nearer. "Hello! Hello-o-o! Where are you?" That was not Mrs. Small, certainly. Unless I was away off in my reckoning the Point was at my right, and the voice sounded to the left. It must come from some craft afloat in the bay, though before the fog set in I had seen none. "Hello-o! Hello, the motor boat!" "Hello!"
He could find no such person, and was about to close the book when it flashed into his mind that Gloria had mentioned a change of name. It was the matter of a minute to find Joseph Black then he waited in the booth while central called the number. "Hello-o. Mr. Bloeckman I mean Mr. Black in?" "No, he's out this evening. Is there any message?"
It was not too late yet, I could telegraph Davis The telephone on the desk not the public, the local, 'phone, but the other, Colton's private wire to New York rang. I picked up the receiver. "Hello-o! Hello-o!" a faint voice was calling. "Is this Colton's house at Denboro? . . . Yes, this is Davis. . . . The wire is all right now. . . . Is this Mr. Colton speaking?" "No," I answered, "Mr.
He wanted the comfort of a bit of talk. So He starts at once eagerly, insistently to find the man. That voice of God spoke out, tender, gentle, plaintive, pleading. You can just hear the soft, very soft woodsman's cry, "Hello-alo, hello, Adam, A-a-dam here I am waiting for you I've kept my tryst where are you? hello-o hello where are you?"
"There won't be much doubt in Johnny Crapaud's mind now as to what part that tidy little craft's cast to play in this show, eh? Hello-o!" Another blaze and a following roar drew the exclamation; but before George had had time to draw breath after it, he and Roger and Maxime were all three in the water.
It is too comfortable all pain gone, all trouble, the world forgot, just a kind weight in all the body, as you go sinking down, down to the valley, where the long hands of old comrades beckon to you, and their soft, high voices cry, 'Hello! hello-o!" Pierre nodded his head towards the distance, and a musing smile divided his lips on his white teeth.
"Hello-o, Parson!" she hailed him, "did you see a skiff with a reporter man drop by?" "No, missy!" he shook his head, his heart giving a painful thump "I'm a-landing in, Parson!" she cried. "I want to talk with you!" With that she leaned forward, drove the sweeps deep, and her boat started in like a skiff. It seemed to Parson Rasba that he had never seen a more beautiful picture in all his days.
A rock caught him above the knees and sent him headlong into the sand. He became unconscious, and lay still, half doubled up. When he recovered consciousness and sat up, a fierce sun was beating down upon him. His head ached, and he was hungry. "There may be people within call," he thought. Rising unsteadily, the soreness of his muscles coming home to him, he gave a prolonged "Hello-o."
It is too comfortable all pain gone, all trouble, the world forgot, just a kind weight in all the body, as you go sinking down, down to the valley, where the long hands of old comrades beckon to you, and their soft, high voices cry, 'Hello! hello-o!" Pierre nodded his head towards the distance, and a musing smile divided his lips on his white teeth.
"What's the matter?" demanded Tom. "Don't you see the danger flag over there? She will skate into a hole if she keeps on. The ice houses are near here, and I suppose it is where they have been cutting ice." "Hello-o!" cried Tom, straining his lungs to reach the skater, who looked back, gave her usual tantalizing laugh and skated on.
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