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Dildine?" he asked in a shocked tone. "What's happened to Cissie?" Vannie began weeping again with a faint gasping and a racking of her flat chest. "It's it's O-o-oh, Peter!" She put an arm about him and began weeping against him. He soothed her, patted her shoulder, at the same time staring at the side of her head, wondering what could have dealt her this blow.
"You have said, Walters, that the passenger you picked up at the Union Station was a woman." "Yes, sir, it was a woman." "Are you sure?" "Why, yes, sir. I couldn't very well be mistaken. You see o-o-oh! You're thinking maybe it was a man in woman's clothes? Is that it, sir?" Carroll smiled. "What do you think?" "That's impossible, sir. It was a woman I'd swear to that." "Pretty positive, eh?"
"We got all the drudgery, and you had all the fun!" "But we brought you some presents! Just wait till I get to the bottom of my box!" put in Carmel. "Oh, have you?" cried Bertha excitedly. "What have you brought? Don't stop to arrange those blouses! Dump your things out anyhow: I can't wait! I've never had a foreign present in my life before. O-o-oh! What an absolutely ducky little locket!
Can the Presence recall it? Sirdar Dyal Singh Attareewalla! Yes, that is the very man; but how does the Presence know? Born and bred in Hind, was he? O-o-oh! This is quite a different matter. The Sahib's nurse was a Surtee woman from the Bombay side? That was a pity. She should have been an up-country wench; for those make stout nurses. There is no land like the Punjab.
"O-o-oh!" sighed the girl. "It's all been frightfully unjust! You haven't had fair play! I shall tell Mr. Blake." "No, not him! not him!" Ashton's voice was almost shrill. "All I wish is to slip away, before they see me." "You don't mean, run away?" she said, quietly placing her little gauntlet-gloved hand on his arm. "You're not going to run away, Lafe."
He doesn't like me much. I was saucy when I came. I don't think I am quite, not quite so saucy spoken as I was when I came. Do you, Monty?" "O-o-oh, not n-n-nigh!" he easily replied, never having thought at all about it. He was still entranced with the possession, even temporary, of such vast wealth as he was now bestowing in an old and hitherto useless purse. The crisp new bills.
The runaway dashed on toward the blacksmith shop. Phoebe, bareheaded and coatless, ran up the hill. Before she reached the crest, she was aware of muffled screams, which sounded as if the screamer was shut up in a trunk. "O-o-oh!" screamed Mrs. Beasley. "O-o-oh! Ow! Let me out! Help! I'm stuck! My back's broke! He-e-lp!"
"I was talking to one only the other day!" admitted Ernesto. "Not really?" "It's quite a profession still in Sicily." "Do they catch people and hold them to ransom?" Dulcie's face was a study. "Certainly they do, and chop their fingers off if their relations don't pay up. It's quite an ordinary little trick of theirs." "O-o-oh! Is it safe to go to the fair, do you think?
"There was bogies, grandfather! there was! and Nannie said I told lies and I didn't tell lies." "Darling, there aren't bogies anywhere but I'm sure you didn't tell lies. What did you think they were like?" "Grandfather, they was all black and they jumped and wiggled and spitted o-o-oh!" And the child went off in another wail, at which moment the Bishop perceived Meynell.
"O-o-oh!" sighed Miss Isobel, making no effort to conceal her vast relief. She attempted a smile. "I am so glad to hear that he is all right now. Of course he must be!... You say he married an heiress?" "She is worth three millions in her own right, and Leslie is as daft over him as she is. Leslie and my father are the ones who backed him on the Zariba Dam." "How interesting! And I suppose Mr.
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