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Updated: May 14, 2025
And our thousand millions would swallow them down in a mouthful. Send a million; send five millions, and we will swallow them down just as readily. Pouf! A mere nothing, a meagre morsel. Destroy, as you have threatened, you United States, the ten million coolies we have forced upon your shores why, the amount scarcely equals half of our excess birth rate for a year." So spoke Li Tang Fwung.
"Pouf!" exclaimed the Baron. "Enough of this! En route, my friends!" "Eh, bien!" growled the farmer. "You refuse to produce your permits on demand of a guard. It shall be stated," he threatened, "in the procès-verbal." Then Le Bour turned on his muddy heel and launched a parting volley at the Baron denouncing his château and everything connected with him.
Three figures cleared themselves from the ruck, and I fought my way to them. "Well done, Mishka, for it was thou!" exclaimed Loris. "How was it done?" "Pouf, it was but a toy," grunted Mishka. "I brought it in my pocket, on chance; such things are useful at times. If it had been a real bomb, we should all have entered Heaven or hell together."
"'Tis that bad Pierre who should be comin', yes. Wait till I get my hands about his ears." "Pierre's too big to have his ears boxed. I don't wonder he hates it. I think I would would box back again if anybody treated me to that indignity." "Pst. Pouf! you are you, and Pierre is Pierre; and as long as he is in the world and I am, if his ears need boxin', I shall box them. I, his mother."
And she ran across to the basin, dipped a little sponge in water, passed it over her face, and turned to him triumphantly. Peter sighed. "Little girl," he said sadly, hardly knowing that he spoke. "I cannot save myself: how can I save you?" "Pouf!" she cried. "Save! What do you mean?" She drew herself up with an absurd gesture. "You think me a bad girl? No, I am not bad; I go to church.
"Dost think me perjured Primus Magister Scholarum, Custos Morum, Quartus Custos Rotulorum? Pouf! I know my place. My oath's my oath. But, soft; enough here comes the boy. Who could have told a skylark in such popinjay attire?" And now a strange, new life began for Nicholas Attwood, in some things so grand and kind that he almost hated to dislike it.
If I was to get ill wouldn't there be a shimozzle! Gaga'd go off his head. And everything else pouf!" It amused her to realise this. It made her forget the unexplained sick dizziness which had given rise to her reflections, because the thing which Sally above everything else had always desired was to be as important as she now found herself.
"It is about me." "And the rhymes?" "They are about me." "And you have never ?" "Never, never, never!" "What, not in the garden even?" "No, never, I tell you. Only my hand." "Your hand pouf! The nightingales sing there, I suppose." "All night." "And there is moonlight?" "Floods of moonlight." "Dio! Dio santissimo!" cried Nannina, striking her friend on the knee, "you must be out of this, Ippolita!
Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face. "It is too, bad," went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a lover only to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up that rose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, it will be neither you nor Prince Frederick ah! you caught that nicely. But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; and then pouf!"
"Just because you fell in love," she replied, "you expect me to do the same at will. I repeat to you, as to all the rest, I would not give a kopeck for any man I have ever met. Pouf! they do not interest me. Look! my adored one, I warn you that I shall prove a most intractable guest if you attempt to inveigle me into any alliance. Ah! you look guilty already!
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