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She foresaw ruin for herself in this London, inclement, misty and inscrutable. And then she noticed a man looking at her, and she was herself again and the universe was itself again. She had a sensation of warmth and heavenly reassurance, just as though she had drunk an anisette or a crême de menthe.
"Give me a little creme de menthe, will you, please?" said he, after a moment's pause. "I haven't a drop in the house," I said, relieved to think that this wonderful being could come down to anything so earthly. "Pshaw, Hiram!" he ejaculated, apparently in disgust. "Don't be mean, and, above all, don't lie. Why, man, you've got a bottle full of it in your hand! Do you want it all?" He was right.
This superiority she completely concealed. Nobody could have guessed it. "Presto, presto!" she said. "You excite me." "Yesterday morning I was in Rush's," said Georgie, "seeing about some Creme de menthe, which ought to have been sent the day before.
Scarcely at table, even. Why I used to be shocked to see how things to drink are thrust upon women, even in department stores. But they're not all deadly; there's 'creme de menthe' now the pep'mint extract Ma used to give me for stomach-ache." Cadge laughed with me, but she turned quickly grave again.
How the tanks attacked A tank walking up the main Street of a village Effect on the Germans Prussian colonel surrenders to a tank Tanks against trees The tank in High Wood The famous Crème de Menthe Demolishing a sugar factory Germans take the tanks seriously Differences of opinion regarding tanks Wandering tanks German attack on a stranded tank Prehistoric turtles Saving twenty-five thousand casualties.
Down hill beside the Bapaume Road swept the right and center, with shell-craters still thick but growing fewer as the wave came out into open fields in face of the ruins of the sugar factory, with the tank Crème de Menthe ready to do her part. She did not take care of all the machine guns; the infantry attended to at least one, I know.
"This is a little bit of all right, my boys," said Jimmie, quoting London slang, as he stirred his creme de menthe frappe with a straw. "I'm jolly glad I crossed the pond. Many's the time I longed for a glimpse of Richmond and the river while I sweltered in the heat on the Casino roof-garden. Here's to 'Dear Old London Town, in the words of who did write that song?"
To his indescribable astonishment, the man only said "Certainly, sir!" and went away apparently to get it. "What will you drink?" resumed Gregory, with the same careless yet apologetic air. "I shall only have a crepe de menthe myself; I have dined. But the champagne can really be trusted. Do let me start you with a half-bottle of Pommery at least?" "Thank you!" said the motionless Syme.
But come," she broke off, gaily dipping a macaroon in a glass of creme de menthe and offering it to him with a pretty gesture of camaraderie, "don't let's be gloomy any more. I want to take you with me to the matinee." "Is he coming?" asked de Vere, pointing at Mr. Overgold's empty chair. "Silly boy," laughed Dorothea. "Of course John is coming. You surely don't want to buy the tickets yourself."
"Tell me one thing," she said, leaning toward me rather eagerly "a thing I have wanted to know for many years just from a woman's curiosity, of course have you ever dared since that night to touch, smell or look at white roses at white roses wet with rain and dew?" I took a sip of creme de menthe.
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