United States or Norfolk Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Kindly proceed-proceed," she says, twitching at her cap strings, as if impatient to get the sequel. "Well, as to that, being a member of the St. "Thank you-thank you. O thank you, Mr. Soloman!" she rejoins. "Why, Madam, I feel all my veneration getting into my head at once when I refer to the name of Sir Sunderland Swiggs." "But pray what came of the young Baronet?"
She wants Mary to sing the Flying Dutchman ballad; Mary curtly refuses; "Then," rejoins Senta, for all the world like a leading lady in a melodrama giving the cue for the band to begin the royalty-song, "I'll sing it myself"; and, despite protests, she does. It recounts, of course, the story of the Dutchman prior to his meeting with Daland.
There were unfriendly critics, however, in Crabbe's native county who professed to think otherwise, and "whispered that the manuscript had been so cobbled by Burke and Johnson that its author did not know it again when returned to him." On which Crabbe's son rejoins that "if these kind persons survived to read The Parish Register their amiable conjectures must have received a sufficient rebuke."
I have put my finger on the North Pole before now, and said "Spear of Esquimaux make, for half a pint of pale sherry!" 'Really? A very remarkable way, Mr. Sapsea, of acquiring a knowledge of men and things. 'I mention it, sir, Mr. Sapsea rejoins, with unspeakable complacency, 'because, as I say, it don't do to boast of what you are; but show how you came to be it, and then you prove it.
Padre Doyaguez says, "Hulia, if you read this, you must become a Catholic." Padre Lluc says, "If Parker has read this book, I cannot conceive that he is not a Catholic." The quick Doyaguez then remarks, "Parker is going to Rome to join the Romish Church." Padre Lluc rejoins, "They say so."
Weevle, that you're not to put too fine a point upon it that you're rather greasy here, sir?" "Why, I have noticed myself that there is a queer kind of flavour in the place to-night," Mr. Weevle rejoins. "I suppose it's chops at the Sol's Arms." "Chops, do you think? Oh! Chops, eh?" Mr. Snagsby sniffs and tastes again. "Well, sir, I suppose it is.
Such a conflict must necessarily terminate in a street fight. The cannon are with our foes. The most prominent of the friends of order are massacred. Terror will restrain the rest. We shall only provoke our own destruction." "Of what use is life," rejoins the intrepid woman, "if we must live in this base subjection to a degraded mob?
"May I ask another question of you, sir?" he inquires, approaching the man who, like himself, sauntered restlessly along the deck. The man hesitates, lights a fresh cigar. "You desire me to be frank with you, of course," rejoins the man. "But I observe you are agitated. I will answer your question, if it carry no personal wound. Speak, my friend." "You know Maria?" "Well."
She is the bright-eyed, sunny-faced girl he found on the rocky shore, and there is the same buoyant ring in her voice. "I shall be a jealous, tyrannical husband," he rejoins, giving the rose-leaf cheek a soft pinch. "You will hardly dare dream your soul is your own." "No, I shall not dream it," she answers, with gay audacity.
Revived by soup, Twemlow discourses mildly of the Court Circular with Boots and Brewer. Is appealed to, at the fish stage of the banquet, by Veneering, on the disputed question whether his cousin Lord Snigsworth is in or out of town? Gives it that his cousin is out of town. 'At Snigsworthy Park? Veneering inquires. 'At Snigsworthy, Twemlow rejoins.
Word Of The Day