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Updated: May 21, 2025
It was clear that she would be an earnest and quick-thinking pupil to whomever had the task of giving her her education. As he looked at her, now, he for the first time fully realized her beauty.
It was a fleeting effect, but it did seem as if she had almost laughed, then caught herself. And there was a tremolo defect in the organ tone with which she now again demanded in blistering politeness, "May I ask what this means?" The quick-thinking Merle twin had by now devised an exit from any complicity in whatever was meant. He saw his way out.
He is a quick-thinking, quick-acting man named well, say Lanahan. He was one day on the bridge of his ship when the lookout shouted: "Periscope!" "Charge her!" yelled out Lanahan. Away they went hooked-up for the periscope, which everybody could now see about 200 yards ahead.
Besides, Mr. Barker was to the Duke a caprice. He found the quick-thinking man of business amusing and even useful, but for steady companionship he did not want him. A passage across the Atlantic was more than enough to satisfy his desire for Mr. Barker's society, even if Barker had not managed to excite his indignation. But Claudius was different.
"'And we find, on referring to your order, that the goods you mention " Hortense would prompt patiently. "Oh, yes, of course," with an effort. Hortense was beginning to grow alarmed. In T. A. Buck's office, just across the hall, the change was quite as noticeable, but in another way. His leisurely drawl was gone. His deliberate manner was replaced by a brisk, quick-thinking, quick-speaking one.
"Let's have that bottle of cosmolene I saw you tuck in your pocket there at the Snowbird." "I was taking that to the professor. He said he would want it," said Mark. "What's it good for?" "You'll come pretty near seeing in a minute, Mark," returned the quick-thinking Jack. "Here, Andy! let me have that woolen scarf you wear. You'll have to say good-bye to it bid it a fond farewell."
Again she was the quick-thinking, emergency-acting Cora Kimball. "We must find out exactly what happened," she said. "Belle, pull yourself together. Don't you dare faint everyone is looking at you!" Perhaps this information, as much as the bottle of ammonia smelling salts, which Cora thrust beneath the nose of her chum, brought Belle to a realization of what part she must play.
"Well, anyway, I've seen that," breathed Emma McChesney thankfully. Next morning, she packed her three samples, as before, her heart heavy, her mind on Fat Ed Meyers coming up two weeks behind her. Three days in Rio! And already she had bumped her impatient, quick-thinking, quick-acting North American business head up against the stone wall of South American leisureliness and prejudice.
Isaac Polhemus came first: Sixty years of age, silent, gray, thick-set; face scarred and seamed by many weathers, but fresh as a baby's; two china-blue eyes peep-holes through which you looked into his open heart; shoulders hard and tough as cordwood hands a bunch of knots; legs like snubbing-posts, body quick-moving; brain quick-thinking; alert as a dog when on duty, calm as a sleepy cat beside a stove when his time was his own.
There she encountered Spalding Billy Spalding, of the coveted Middle-Western territory, Billy Spalding, the long-headed, quick-thinking; Spalding, the persuasive, Spalding the mixer, Spalding on whom depended the fate of the T. A. Buck Featherloom Knickerbocker and Pajama. "'Morning! When do you start out?" she asked him. "In the morning. Gad, that's some line, what? I'm itching to spread it.
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