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Updated: May 29, 2025
We have our own arrangements to make wi' regard to the banking concern, and there'll be lawyer's work to do, after yo've examined books and looked over stock again together; may-be we've overstated it, or t' fixtures aren't worth so much as we said. Anyhow yo' must each on yo' give us yo'r word for to keep fra' naming this night's conversation to any one.
I've a great mind for t' tak yo' two lassies back wi' me, and let yo' see a bit o' t' world; may-be, I may yet. Her sister Bessy looked much pleased with this plan, but Sylvia was rather inclined to take offence at Molly's patronizing ways, and replied, 'I'm none so fond o' noise and bustle; why, yo'll not be able to hear yoursels speak wi' all them carts and carriages.
But tell me first, my kind lassy, for I see you are a kind lassy, tell me, has not this house had a change of fortune, and fallen to decay of late? for the inn at Bannow was pictured to me as a bra' neat place. Biddy. Ah! that was, may-be, the time the Larkens had it? Mr. H. The Larkens! that was the very name: it warms my heart to hear the sound of it. Biddy.
A youth, of may-be twelve years of age, blew upon a pipe for the bear to dance, and inasmuch as he had no clothes but a ragged little coat, and a sharp east wind was blowing, he quaked with cold and shivered as he piped. Notwithstanding he was a fine lad, well-grown, and with a countenance of outlandish but well nigh perfect beauty.
"As if your wishes could make any difference. If it is to be so, she'll die, poor creature, without your saying so much about it; but may-be, and it's very likely too, she'll be alive and strong, after the two of us are under the sod."
They do not print it so now any more, I think. They leave it out, may-be. Only one woman could sing that good." Thea looked at him in perplexity. Wunsch went on. "It is written for alto, you see. A woman sings the part, and there was only one to sing that good in there. You understand? Only one!" He glanced at her quickly and lifted his red forefinger upright before her eyes.
"Mon Dieu!" said Maverick, with a sudden pallor on his face, "who is she?" The eyes of Papiol fastened upon the figure which had arrested the attention of Maverick, a lady of, may-be, forty years, fashionably, but gracefully attired, with olive-brown complexion, hair still glossy black, and attended by a strange gentleman with a brusque and foreign air.
"It is in the barn," said Fritz sadly. "It would do no good; he would not be afraid of anything now. Stay you in the bed, Paulina." The dresser had lost its casters years ago, but he managed to drag it in front of the door. "He is in the garden. He makes nothing. He will get sick again, may-be." Fritz went back to bed and his wife pulled the quilt over him and made him lie down.
"I'm sorry to hear you speak so hard agin Mr. Barry, my lord," began Martin. "May-be he mayn't be so bad. Not but that he's a cross-grained piece of timber to dale with." "And why should you be sorry I'd speak against him? There's not more friendship, I suppose, between you and Barry Lynch now, than there used to be?"
Mary remembered this, and now casting a rueful glance around the room she said, "I wonder where I am going to wash me." The loud, scornful laugh which followed this remark made her look up amazed at Mrs. Grundy, who replied, "In the back room sink, of course. May-be you expected to have a china bowl and pitcher in your room, and somebody to empty your slop.
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