Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 2, 2025
The Sergeant was ahead of the half-company, speaking to the officer in charge. It was the Corporal who answered, across the man who marched upon the left of W. Keyse: "O' course it was. But you 'ad the Dopper fust, and," he cackled quietly, "the Colonel won't be jealous." The eyes and mouth of W. Keyse became circular. "The who?" "The Colonel, didn't you 'ear me say?" "That wasn't never ... 'im"?
She could hardly hear him for the roaring in her poor bewildered head. "S'pose John tell, can catchee more tikkie? Plenty tikkie want to buy chow, allee so baddee times." "Always on the make, ain't you?" commented W. Keyse.
We may only know that she plucked the weapon of lower-class London from her hat, and jabbed at the pale face viciously, and heard the victim say "Owch!" as he winced, and knew herself, as her Slabberts gripped the rifle-barrel, and wrested it with iron strength from the failing hands of W. Keyse, the equal of those dauntless Boer women who killed men when it was necessary.
"'E ain't coddin'. See 'ow black they're lookin'." "I see 'em, plyne enough. Waxworks only fit for the Chamber of 'Orrors, ain't 'em?" "It's a young woman wot arsks you to go, not a bloke! Please! For my syke, if you won't for your own!" Billy Keyse, with a flourish, offered the thin, boyish arm in the tweed sleeve. "Righto! Will you allow me, Miss?" She faltered: "I I can't, deer.
That Miss Greta Du Taine had left for Johannesburg with the latest batch of departing pupils! If she told, W. Keyse would vanish out of her life, it might be for ever; or, if by chance encountered on the street, pass by with a casual greeting and a touch of the cheap Panama. Emigration Jane was no heroine, only a daughter of Eve.
'Shut your damned mouth! that's wot the Doctor s'ys to me. Well, I 'ave shut it!" He closed his jaws upon an inch-thick slice. "But wot I s'y to myself is," he continued, masticating, "that makes the Third Time, an' the Third Time's the Charm!" "Wot do you mean by the third time, deer?" asked Mrs. Keyse, putting more hot water in the teapot.
There was a boiling W. Keyse in the deep shadow of the tall corrugated-iron fence, who restrained with difficulty a snort of indignation. "On'y tell me, deer. I'll find out anythink you want me to." Before her spread a lovely vista of floors her own floors to scrub, and a kitchen range hers, too which should cook dinners nice enough to make any husband adore you.
When a clear lane showed to the saloon door, the Dop Doctor took it, walking with a lurch in his long stride, but with the square head held upright on his great gaunt shoulders. W. Keyse, Esquire, moved in the shadow of him, taking two steps to one of his. The swing doors opened, thudded to behind them.... "Outside.... Time, too!"
Endeavouring not to breathe so as to be heard, W. Keyse flattened himself against the corrugated fence, and waited, looking ahead into the thick velvet darkness, sensing the faint human taint upon the tell-tale breeze, and counting with the Slabberts; and then, out in the blackness that concealed so much that was sinister, sprang into sudden life an answering bluish glimmer, and lasted for ten beats of the pulse, and went out as suddenly as though a human breath had blown upon it.
Keyse, to whom her William had expatiated upon the subject of his family, maintained a portentous dumbness, punctuated with ringing sniffs, during the visit, and was sarcastic on the bus, and tearfully penitent when they got back to the Waterloo Road lodging that was cheap at the weekly rent, she said, if you were paying for dirt and live-stock.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking