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Updated: April 30, 2025
"Like a'nuff I hab," said the vender warily. "De pint am, howsumeber, isn't de cakes good?" "Yes, they seem better every day, but they are not the same every day. I reckon some one's coaching you." "Law sakes, Massa, wo't you mean by coachin' me?" "Do you make the cakes?" was asked pointblank. "Now, Massa, you's gittin' too cur'us. Wot de Scripter say? Ask no questions fer conscience' sake."
"The complexion of a rosebud and amusing! Ah la! la!" "I hear her debts ran close to a million," returned the lieutenant. "She was feather-brained," continued the bon vivant, with a blasé shrug. "She was a good little quail with more heart than head! Poor Babette!" "Take care!" cautioned the Vicomte pointblank, as the Baron re-entered with the box of milder Havanas.
But if the cigarette boy had been faced pointblank with the proposition I do not believe he would have agreed to give up his kingdom for the "coffin tack." Yes, this boy had a kingdom; every boy has a kingdom.
I was glad afterwards that I hadn't described what she looked like. He was a grave, stern man, wonderfully self-possessed. "It is a strange story," he said, when I had finished. "A mysterious one." "Do you hold the key to the mystery?" I asked him pointblank. "No, though I can shed a little light on it; a very little, and I fear even that will only make the rest more obscure.
They then had a huge target at pointblank range on which to concentrate leaden hail from machine-guns and rifles aided by the shells from the Asiatic forts. Few lived in that eager first rush some jumped into the sea to wade or swim, but were shot in the water or drowned under weight of their equipment.
'Well, Mrs Gamp, observed Mould, 'I don't see any particular objection to your earning an honest penny under such circumstances. I should keep it quiet, I think, Mrs Gamp. I wouldn't mention it to Mr Chuzzlewit on his return, for instance, unless it were necessary, or he asked you pointblank. 'The very words was on my lips, sir, Mrs Gamp rejoined.
The man in pursuit stopped and said: "Now, I want Jim, and there's no use of you fellows trying to protect him." It was Allenham's voice. There was a report of a revolver so close that it made me wink. The man who had come from under the shed had fired pointblank at Allenham. By the flash I saw that the man was Pike.
They were immersed in the interesting subject of their own Christian names, and Allan was as near a pointblank proposal of marriage as it is well possible for a thoughtless young gentleman of two-and-twenty to be. "Tell me the truth," said Miss Milroy, with her eyes modestly riveted on the ground. "When you first knew what my name was, you didn't like it, did you?"
A brisk fire of remarks exploded, as a matter of course, on all sides; but everybody's view of the subject ended interrogatively, in a question aimed pointblank at the station-master's ears. "She's got him, hasn't she?" "She'll come back 'Mrs. Armadale, won't she?" "He'd better have stuck to Miss Milroy, hadn't he?" "Miss Milroy stuck to him. She paid him a visit at the great house, didn't she?"
At that moment a dark-lantern was turned full on Charley, and a pistol was fired pointblank at him. As he fell, shot through the breast, the man who had fired dropped the lantern with a shriek of terror. He had seen the ghost of his brother-in-law-Charley Steele.
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