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Updated: May 16, 2025
That's the precognition you mentioned on Kandar that the fleet wouldn't be wiped out and everybody killed." "No-o-o," said Gwenlyn. "That was another one. I'd rather not tell you about it. It might be unpleasant. I'll tell you later." Bors shrugged. "All right. You said I'm to be measured for rumors? Bring on your tape-measures!" Morgan beamed at him. Gwenlyn went to the door and opened it.
"Joe, you've missed your callin'," said he. "You've got no business foolin' away your time on a farm. With that solemn, long-hungry look of yours you ought to be sellin' consumption cure and ringbone ointment from the end of a wagon on the square in Kansas City." "Or books, maybe," suggested Joe. "No-o-o," said Morgan thoughtfully, "I wouldn't just say you're up to the level of books.
"No-o-o," I said, "but when we are married you will have to take care of Fatima, I won't." "Dear Fatima," said Max gratefully. It had never worried me in the least that I wasn't married, although everybody in Avonlea pitied old maids; but it DID worry me, and I frankly confess it, that I had never had a chance to be. Even Nancy, my old nurse and servant, knew that, and pitied me for it.
He was uncomfortably conscious of that interrogative gleam in Dryad's glance that amused glimmer which he couldn't quite fathom when she turned her head. She was smiling, too, a little smiling with her lips as well as with her eyes. "No-o-o," she stated with preoccupied lack of emphasis, as she bent again over the box. "No I'm packing up." Old Jerry had known that that would be her answer.
They they aren't married, are they?" "Oh, no-o, no-o-o, no-o-o-o-o." The Persimmon waggled his bullet head slowly from side to side. "I heared Tump got into a lil trouble wid de jailer las' night." "Serious?" "I dunno." The Persimmon closed one of his protruding yellow eyes.
Now, now jis' look yere! Ef that Battles chap hain't scratched the hull top of this table with a buzzer! I'd lam him good ef I was you, I would." "Do you think our Kindergarten would be the pleasant place it is if I whipped little boys every day?" "No-o-o! But there is times" "Yes, I know, Patsy, but I have never found them."
Sinivate," said I, imploringly, "is he the man in the mask?" "No-o-o!" said he, looking wise, "nor the man in the mo-o-on." This reply I considered a pointed and positive insult, and so left the house at once in high dudgeon, with a firm resolve to call my friend, Mr. Sinivate, to a speedy account for his ungentlemanly conduct and ill-breeding.
Even Aunt Sarah came to the top of the stairs and wanted to know "if that young one was killed?" "No-o-o!" sobbed Dot, answering for herself. "No no-o-o, Aunt Sarah. Not yet." But Mrs. MacCall had brought the arnica bottle and the bruise was soon treated. While they were all comforting her, in staggered Neale with a number of rugs on his shoulder. "Hello!" he demanded. "Who's murdered this time?"
Good evening!... Yes.... Yes.... No-o-o it won't be possible!... No, I've just come in and I'm pretty well 'all in. I have a lot of studying yet to do to-night. This is exam. week, you know.... No, I'm afraid not to-morrow night either.... No, there wouldn't be a chance till the end of the week, anyway.... Why, yes, I think I could by that time, perhaps Friday night?
Barbara examined him reflectively, her chin in her hand, her elbow on her knee. She looked at his wavy hair, his kindly, humorous gray eyes, the straight line of his fine-cut nose, his firm lips with the quaint upward twist of the corners, the fine contour of his jaw. "No-o-o," she agreed, "I don't suppose it does. Only I know you are a gentleman," she added, with delightful inconsistence.
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