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Updated: June 15, 2025
"And now if you will excuse us we'll put on our suits, and show you boys how to swim. Come on, girls!" "You can't be too quick to suit me," Allen called after them. Mollie made a little face at him from the doorway. "Anxious to meet your Water-loo?" she mocked impishly, and before he could answer had followed the girls up the stairway.
"It is true: I am bored." "Then why not go where you're wanted?" She drained her glass at a gulp and jumped up, swirling her skirts. "Your cab is waiting, monsieur and perhaps you will find it more amusing with that Pack!" Flinging herself into the arms of another girl, she swung away, grinning impishly at Lanyard over her partner's shoulder.
"The pyrometer's on the red, and the oven's hot," and the man left his bench. Taking up a long paddle and an even longer blowpipe, he skimmed the melt to a dazzlingly bright surface and deftly formed a bubble. "I just love to talk at you when you've got your mouth full of a blowpipe." Nadia eyed him impishly and tucked her feet beneath her, poised weightless as she was.
"Tra-la-la!" he sang; "birds, Mary, trees, water. No more chimney pots, no more walking up and down that tunnel of an avenue. See what it is to have admiring friends." Mary flushed again. "Why will you spoil everything by putting it like that?" He stopped and patted her cheek teasingly. "It's me they admire, Mary, the great artist, creator of the famous Danae," and he skipped again, impishly.
But here in the prudish brick-minded city where the Young Spring at her friskiest is nothing more audacious than a sweltering, winter-swathed madcap, who has impishly essayed some fine morning to tiptoe down street in her soft, sloozily, green, silk-stockinged feet, the whole hob-nailed population reels back aghast and agrin before the most innocent flash of the rogue's green-veiled toes.
No, I had to do it, but it's the last time. Nella-Rose, tell me where Burke is hidden tell me! Leave me free to to win him; let me have my chance!" "And then who'll kill the pig?" Nella-Rose shuddered. "Who cares?" Marg flung back. "No! Find him if you can. Fair play no favours; what I find is open to you!" Nella-Rose laughed impishly and, darting past her sister, ran down the path.
And she then continued in exactly the same tone: "Lady Queenie Paulle has just been telephoning from Lechford House, sir." She still despite her marvellous experiences impishly loved to make extraordinary announcements as if they were nothing at all. And she felt an uplifted satisfaction in having talked to Lady Queenie Paulle herself on the telephone. "What does she want?"
She brings out a graham cracker which she feeds to a baby lying flat on a seat and wailing hopelessly. Most of the crumbs drop on the red plush of the seat, and the woman sighs and tries to brush them away, but they leap up impishly and fall back on the plush. A soiled man and woman munch sandwiches and throw the crusts on the floor.
However, it happened to be Sophie who waited on him most, who impishly took the greatest liberties with him, who was never averse to an argument on any subject Thompson cared to touch. He had never supposed there was a normal being with views on religion and economics, upon any manifestation of human problems, with views so contrary to his own.
Impishly first, more as a dare to herself than as anything else, she began to hum the melody and sway her body softly to and fro to the rhythm.
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