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His moment of bright anticipation passed into heavy despondency, and turning his head from the light, he dropped asleep with a tear on his cheek. When he awoke it was at the sound of movements in the room, slow and cautious, out of regard to his slumbers and voices, likewise low at least one was low, the other that whisper of the inaudibility of which Averil could not be disabused.
So saying, he threw his arms round the lamppost and closed his eyes, expecting every moment to be drawn away against his will into a life of vice. A well-known voice, strangled to the pitch almost of inaudibility, said in his ear: "Oh, Don Pickwixote, Don Pickwixote, you will be the death of me!" Electrified, Mr.
Gradually they grew fainter, until, had there been any air stirring, or had the tension of hearing been less, he would have heard nothing; but, when the noises were hovering close to inaudibility, they continued thus. They neither increased nor diminished, but remaining the same, steadily shifted the direction whence they came.
You may derive thoughts from others; your way of thinking, the mould in which your thoughts are cast, must be your own. Intellect may be imparted, but not each man's intellectual frame. The trumpet does not more stun you by its loudness, than a whisper teases you by its provoking inaudibility.
When two people, or a group, are talking among themselves, unheard by the others on the stage, it requires a special effort to remember that, as a matter of fact, the others probably do hear them. Even if the scene be unskilfully arranged, it is not the audibility of one group, but the inaudibility of the others, that is apt to strike us as unreal.
The clever, restless Eastern European Jews, too, have still to find a voice. Professor Münsterberg has written with a certain bitterness of the inaudibility of the German element in the American population. They allow themselves, he remonstrates, to count for nothing. They did not seem to exist, he points out, even in politics until prohibitionist fury threatened their beer.
Within seconds a new sound entered the cabin. Beep-beep-beep-beep. They were thin squeaks, spaced a full half-second apart, that rose to inaudibility in pitch in the fraction of a second they lasted. The co-pilot snatched a hand phone from the wall above his head and held it to his lips. "Flight two-twenty calling," he said crisply. "Something's got a radar on us. We saw it.
Then, relying on inaudibility: "It makes her seem so old. She was quite young when we started off this morning." "Young folks," said his lordship, "never believe in old bones, until they feel them inside, and then they are not young folks any longer. Why where did we drive to, to knock ourselves up so? What's her name Picture?" He was incredulous, evidently, about such a name being possible.
"I hope so." "Ready?" Kennon asked. She nodded. He flipped the switches that would send the fuel rods into the reactor. Below them a soft, barely audible whine ascended the sonic scale to a point of irritating inaudibility. Kennon smiled. The spindizzy was functioning properly. He flipped a second bank of switches and a dull roar came from the buried stem.
In his mind Oleron could see the gathering of each drop, its little tremble on the lip of the tap, and the tiny percussion of its fall, "Plink plunk," minimised almost to inaudibility. Following the lowest note there seemed to be a brief phrase, irregularly repeated; and presently Oleron found himself waiting for the recurrence of this phrase. It was quite pretty....
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