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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Of course not, by no means," said he. "Just for the moment. Perhaps we can get a loan further down the valley." "I don't borrow." "Ingeborg!" said he, pretending playfully to whimper. "What is it?" "Nothing. Can't I say 'Ingeborg' to my own wife?" "I'm not your own wife," she said, getting up. "Pish! We were man and wife last night. It says so in the visitors' book." She was silent at this.
"Well, I will save him," said Dicky, rising slowly to his feet. "Pish! Go to the Khedive with the tale, and I will kill the man within the hour, and tell it abroad, and we shall see where Donovan Pasha will stand to-morrow. The Khedive is not stronger than his people and there are the French, and others!" He spat upon the floor at Dicky's feet.
You'd have a gibbet if you could, wouldn't you? You with your rebellion and your tinpot honours! A puling baby could conspire as well as you. And all the world laughing at you v'la!" "Get out of this room and take your feet from my Manor, Tardif," said the Seigneur with a deadly quietness, "or it will be the worse for you." "Your Manor pish!" The man laughed a hateful laugh. "Your Manor?
There'll be the worst kind of a row if the governor sees him in this pickle." John Randolph looked indignantly at the handsome horse, as he stood with drooping head and wide distended nostrils, while the white foam dripped over his delicate legs. "Serve you right if there were!" and his voice was full of scorn. "You're about as fit to handle horseflesh as an Esquimaux." "Oh, pish!
And why not? Is it because Meleese is among this gang of cut-throats and murderers? Pish, my dear Jean, you must be a fool. They tried to kill me on the trail, tried it again in the coyote, and you came back here determined to kill me. You've held the whip-hand from the first. Now it's mine. I swear that if I take you back to the Wekusko we'll get you all." "If, M'seur?" "Yes if."
'Pish! said Toole, who saw the secret almost in his grasp; 'don't tell me, my dear Madam don't you think I know my business by this time o' day? I tell you again you'd better ease your mind or take my word for it you'll be sorry too late. How would you like to go off like poor old Peggy Slowe eh?
After that she sat still enough. Then the steel was exchanged for cards; and when I lost too steadily M. Picot broke out: "Pish, boy, your luck fails here! Hillary, child, go practise thy songs on the spinet." Or: "Hortense, go mull us a smack o' wine!" Or: "Ha, ha, little witch! Up yet? Late hours make old ladies." And Hortense must go off, so that I never saw her alone but once.
"Yes a gentleman's life." "Pish! Fanny; no satire from you: you, who are not properly speaking even a tragic actress! But there is something about your profession sublimely picturesque in the midst of these noisy brawls. The storms of nations shake not the stage; you are wrapt in another life; the atmosphere of poetry girds you.
'Pish! tush! Laura checked her. 'They flog women, they do not shoot them. They shoot men. 'That is our better fortune, said Ammiani. 'But, Sandra, my sister, Laura persisted now, in melodious coaxing tones. 'Can you not help us to guess? I am troubled: I am stung. It is for your sake I feel it so. Can't you imagine who did it, for instance? 'No, signora, I cannot, Vittoria replied.
"If I am the first you have housed, your tumbling ruin of a tavern has been a singularly choice resort. Woman " "Would you 'woman' me?" she stormed. "Why, no," said I politely. "I was at fault. I'll keep the title for your husband God help him!" She smiled grimly. "And are these," she asked, with a ferocious sarcasm, "the jests with which you pay the score?" "Jests?" quoth I. "Score? Pish!
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