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Updated: May 26, 2025
"You see, he doesn't believe in either, and such things should be left to the person himself, as long as he's in his right mind." "And a lawyer?" Mrs. Edwards continued, probingly. "Has he asked for one?" "No, but he seems to find it hard to talk." "I guess it's best not to meddle. Who's that?"
He could have no conception what that demand was to the hearer how probingly it touched the hidden sensibility, the vividly conscious reticence of years; how the uncertainty he was insisting on as part of his own hope had always for Daniel been a threatening possibility of painful revelation about his mother.
Morena, even if I could not if I were to be burnt for refusing him." Jasper looked probingly at her, a new speculation in his eyes. She had begun to fit definitely into his plans. It seemed there might be a way to frustrate Betty and to keep a hold upon his valuable protégée. "Are you so sure of that, Jane?" "Ah!" she answered; "you doubt it because I once thought I loved him?
Spragg appeared to search his memory for confirmation of the fact. "I believe he used to be round there at one time. I've never heard any good of him yet." He paused at a crossing and looked probingly at his son-in-law. "Is she terribly set on this trip to Europe?" Ralph smiled. "You know how it is when she takes a fancy to do anything " Mr.
And surely you've always been on terms of what most people would call close friendship with him?" "Yes, I suppose I have" she hesitated "in a way. I've always felt that, like me, he hadn't many real friends. And, of course, in old days, ages ago, he was very fond of me," she smiled. "That always pleases a woman, Mark." "Does it?" he asked, probingly; and as only answer she reddened slightly.
Howard looked at him curiously, wondering just how the trails of the gambler and the desert man had crossed and what wrong Courtot had done the other. For he did not doubt that the sin had been Courtot's. 'You have a big dog, he said, still looking probingly into the beady eyes. 'Big dog, big head, big shoulders, teeth like a wolf. Where is he?
"I told him no such thing," Henley retorted, with an effort to control his rising temper. "I can't be responsible for the slap-dash way he puts things. I don't like his eternal gab, nohow." "Well, you must have said something," Mrs. Henley pursued, probingly. "He never makes up things out of whole cloth. He is not that way." "Well, I suppose I did say something," Henley reluctantly admitted.
Then, more probingly, it occurred to him how unlike the womanizing playboy artist that he was, that a truly unperverted mind had no sexual orientation at all: that for such a being the pleasure of intrigues, these soft and low beds of earth that from His affable magnetism surrounded Him, were the natural course from which His, an Unperverted Bisexual's liquids, would easily flow into.
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