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Updated: June 25, 2025
The harmless fib was due to the rank of the little countess; she could not have driven through the streets of Paris in the same fiacre with a pékin! "We will not go up the main staircase," said the child, taking her companion's arm and leading him into the palace. "I don't want to meet any of the servants. We will go directly to mama's boudoir, and take her by surprise."
"And this is Constance, the general's firstborn," introduced Winifred, still retaining her liveliness despite Mama's low temperature. Constance was the perfect connectinglink between Winifred and her mother, not yet gray but soon to be so, without Winifred's animation, but with the same voluntary smile showing the same white teeth.
It was one of Mama's cherished hopes that I should become united to a tall member of society. It may have been a weakness, but if so, it was equally the weakness, I believe, of King Frederick of Prussia." These remarks being offered to Mr. George Sampson, who had not the courage to come out for single combat, but lurked with his chest under the table and his eyes cast down, Mrs.
In the rear of the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage there was a thirty-thousand-dollar flower-garden an oppressively clean garden, where the big Jack-roses were as immaculate as a "mama's Lizzie-boy," and the well-bred, timid little violets seemed to long to play in the dirt, yet dared not because of the master-rule of "form."
"My dear Miss Blye!" wouldn't that put pink icing and a little red sugar bird on your bridal cake? How long do you expect to hold an audience in a court-room with that kind of stuff? You want to get down to business, and call me "Tweedlums Babe" and "Honeysuckle," and sign yourself "Mama's Own Big Bad Puggy Wuggy Boy" if you want any limelight to concentrate upon your sparse gray hairs.
Ladies useto wear 'em 'cause dey so stylish to make they dresses stick out in the back. Come on home, Jimmy, 'fore yuh ketch de yaller jandis er de epizootics; yo' ma tol' yuh to stay right at home." "Well, I'm coming, ain't I?" scowled the little boy. "Mama needn't to know nothing 'thout you tell." "Would you take yo' mama's present now, Jimmy?" asked Billy; "you ain't earnt it."
Martie felt sure that she always had good clothes, and wore white shoes in summer, and could be generous without any glimmering of a sense of justice. She was close to fifty. "How do, Mrs. Bannister," she said heartily. "I've heard Adele mention your name. How do you think she looks? I think she looks like death. How do, dear?" she added to Teddy. "Are you mama's boy?
The prisoner had fallen in the middle of the road, utterly exhausted. "Well, well!" Blondie shouted, retracing his steps. "So little mama's boy is tired, eh? Poor little fellow. I'll buy a glass case and keep you in a corner of my house just as if you were the Virgin Mary's own little son. You've got to reach home first, see? So I'll help you a little, sonny!"
But that's no matter. It's the pressing down on me of this alien standard, whether expressed or not, that stifles me. I could feel mama's hostility in every word, every glance." "Hardly hostility, Imogen. Perhaps a touch of vexation on Mrs. Wake's account. You didn't mean it, of course, but it might have hurt, what you said." "That! That was a mere opportunity.
"Whatever else I've been hasn't been my fault you've always blamed Heyman." "Mama, I don't understand." "I've caused you worry, Alma terrible worry. But everything is changed now. Mama's going to turn over a new leaf that everything is going to be happiness in this family." "Dearest, if you knew how happy it makes me to hear you say that." "Alma, look at me." "Mama, you you frighten me."
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