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Updated: November 16, 2024
"Please p-p-put up your p-pistol and aid me to solve it. I am no robber, madam. I thought at first that you were. I'm living in Mr. Lee's house, No. 38 East Eighty-third Street, and I've looked carefully at the number over the door of this house and the number is thirty-eight, and the street is East Eighty-third. So I naturally conclude that I am in Mr. Lee's house."
"We-we'll see about th-that. I c-c-can't and I w-w-won't bind myself without He who c-c-can't, can't; don't you see?" "That's very true." "I'm all p-p-put ab-b-bout by what you've t-t-told me. This is the f-first t-t-time in my life I have b-been obliged to th-th-think " "Yes, you are not a lawyer."
"Be quick, Jim. Get your clothes and be back in time to wait on her ladyship at dinner," said Elizabeth. James Hutchings came out of his stupor. "Why, L-L-Lizzie, you must let me p-p-put up our b-b-banns tomorrow," he stammered. "Be off!" said Elizabeth, stamping her foot. "We can talk about that later."
Lightning always does strike barns, doesn't it?" With a philosophy beyond his years Montgomery changed the subject. "I shall have to boost you, i-i-if you c-c-can't climb without. P-p-put your feet right th-th-there I'm b-bo-boo-boostin' my best! Catch hold the s-sill! Cracky! Up you g-g-go!"
P-pardon me, brother, fur a likin' ye to him, but somethin' in ye y-y-yur," passing his hand upon his skull, "p-puts me in mind of him. It was hyur he was shot" still keeping his hand upon the skull "through an' through, an' died the death of the sinner. I have p-p-put my f-finger through the two holes where the b-bullet come an' went, an' rid this w-world of a d-d-demon!"
"It wa'n't!" retorted Simeon, flaming with righteous indignation "It wa'n't but harf a one!" "He t-t-told me," cried a young scion of the stammering Vickery race, all breathless with excitement, "that he was going to p-p-put it into his m-m-mouth and t-t-take it out of his n-n-nose, and he did and it t-t-t and it slip-p-ped!"
"He said to p-p-put a st-st-stone over D-Davy's grave," says the lad The man turns on the boy. The brows beetle. The mouth gives a squaring movement, significant beyond words. The listener still waits. "And then," says Corkey, "he whisper his good-bye to you. 'Tell her good-bye for me. That's what he said, you moke!" "Yessah." Esther Lockwin grasps those short hands.
I had a k-k-kid-skin of wine p-p-put in the litter and b-b-bread and cheese and fruit." *In other words, she's pregnant. PG ed. "You did!" cried Brinnaria. "Where is Vocco?" "On horseback b-b-beside the litter," said Flexinna, "waiting for your d-d-decision." "I've made it," Brinnaria proclaimed. "Shall I g-g-go t-t-try?" enquired Flexinna. "No!"
She looked up, smiling faintly at his enthusiastic tone. "Are you fond of sweets? I always keep them for Cesare; he is a perfect baby over any kind of lollipops." "R-r-really? Well, you must get him s-some more to-morrow and give me these to take with me. No, let me p-p-put the toffee in my pocket; it will console me for all the lost joys of life.
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