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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Oh, but surelee. No? Well, Mandega's, per'aps?" "Mandega's? Yes, I was there for a bit. I had a block of claims on the ditch, next to old Jimmy Ryan's." "Ah yais," said the tall man eagerly. "I know 'im. An' there you shoot the Intendente, not? That was ver' fine. I see you coom down all quiet, an' shoot 'im in the 'ead. It was done ver' naice, eh!" Mills's face darkened.
"But one day per'aps? You love someone, hein?" She studied his face with a wicked curiosity. "There is no one to give it to." "But there was " He tried desperately to regain the old sarcastic inflection. "No doubt it seems inevitable to you." "Tell me about 'er. Voyons, if you can't keep me alive, Monsieur mon docteur, you might at least amuse me." "There is nothing to tell.
"Anyway, I reckon they wouldn't have bin altogether sorry to see me at the bottom o' the river." "But why?" I persisted. "What on earth have you been doing to them?" Mr. Gow was silent for a moment. "'Tis like this, sir," he said at last. "Bein' about the river all times o' the day an' night, I see things as other people misses things as per'aps it ain't too healthy to see."
He gave me some cold pig, very excellent ham it was, too, for which I was very thankful. He watched my greediness with satisfaction. I ate heartily when I saw that my confident way with him had made him more tender towards me. "Yes," he snorted. "Per'aps you ain't been lying to me after all. Now 'ow long will these blokes be up the 'ill 'ere?"
And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself. "Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies. We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get along without him, per'aps." But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing.
In Mexico, ze soldiers would take all ze money and give ze people a bonus ... per'aps." He puffed his cigarette. "I am done wiz you." He turned abruptly to Lucia. "Now I shall come to you." She started. "You love my frand, Señor Jones?" Gilbert intervened. He could not stand this. "I don't know what you're getting at," he said to Lopez, "nor how you're going to get it.
Don't lose your patience now, because we haven't come to the end of it yet not by a long way. By midnight, say, we get started an' haul up to Knowlsey top lock, which is a matter of three miles. What do we find there?" "Dunno," said Tilda wearily. "A brass band per'aps, an' a nillumynated address, congratylatin' yer." Sam ignored this sarcasm.
You know," he went on with a sudden hospitable outburst, "you needn't be in any hurry to go; we kin take care of you here to-night, and it'll cost you nothin'. And I'll send you on with my sleigh in the mornin'. Per'aps you'd like suthin' to eat a cup of tea or I'll call Zuleika;" and he rose with an expression of awkward courtesy.
Per'aps you may find it in your hart some day to give up a prayer for me but it must be for the Major as well. "Your obedient servant, What comment of my own can I append to this wild narrative? Professionally, and apart from personal experiences, I should rule it the composition of an epileptic.
Tilda took a turn at considering. "The further I go on this v'yage," she announced, "w'ich, per'aps, 'twould be truthfuller to say the longer it takes the more I seems to get mixed up in other folks' business. But you've done me a good turn, Sam Bossom; an' you've been open with me; an' I reckon I got to keep you straight in this 'ere. There! put up yer verses while I sit an' think it out."
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