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Among much other interesting matter, that which I had perused and reperused with unflagging satisfaction, was a short dialogue between a master and his slave.
"Thank you," replied the musketeer, politely; after which the two partners reperused their deed. "That is perfect, monsieur," said Planchet; "and the late M. Coquenard, the first husband of Madame la Baronne du Vallon, could not have done it better." "Do you find it so? Let us sign it then." And both affixed their signatures.
Raoul picked it up, and continued to read aloud: "Make haste. His majesty is very anxious to speak to you, and expects you at the Louvre." "Expects me?" again repeated the musketeer. "He, he, he!" laughed Raoul. "Oh, oh!" replied D'Artagnan. "What the devil can this mean?" The King The first moment of surprise over, D'Artagnan reperused Athos's note.
'Well, had been Dave's comment as we reperused this summary of M. Delbras, 'he may disguise himself in many ways, but he can't change his height very much, nor the colour of his eyes, nor his "regular features" Dave's features were not strictly regular, and it was a weakness of his always to resent this descriptive phrase 'nor his slim fingers, nor the scar on his temple close to the roots of the hair.
He who had just reperused the document was but a simple "captain of the woods." Under the name of "Capitaes do Mato" are known in Brazil those individuals who are engaged in the recapture of fugitive slaves. The institution dates from 1722.
The sun was sinking slowly as Isaura sat at her window, gazing dreamily on the rose-hued clouds that made the western borderland between earth and heaven. On the table before her lay a few sheets of manuscript hastily written, not yet reperused. That restless mind of hers had left its trace on the manuscript.
They had often talked of the possibility of a classic friendship between women, the alliance of a mutual devotedness men choose to doubt of. She caught herself accusing Tony of the lapse from friendship. Hither should the true friend have flown unerringly. The blunt ending of the letter likewise dealt a wound. She reperused it, perused and meditated. The flight of Mrs. Warwick!
I sat next to Granville and next to him was Mr G. We were all gay enough and as unlike as possible to a marooned crew. Towards the end of the feast Mr G. handed to me, at the back of Granville's chair, the draft of the famous letter in an unsealed envelope. While he read the Queen's speech to the rest I perused and reperused the letter. Granville also read it.
The letter was finally reperused and placed in her pocket. What was this? Also a newspaper for Elfride, which she had overlooked in her hurry to open the letter. It was the old number of the PRESENT, containing the article upon her book, forwarded as had been requested. Elfride had hastily read it through, shrunk perceptibly smaller, and had then gone with the paper in her hand to Mrs.
And who, looking back to the green spots in his childish experiences, does not bless the good Tinker of Elstow? And who, that has reperused the story of the Pilgrim at a maturer age, and felt the plummet of its truth sounding in the deep places of the soul, has not reason to bless the author for some timely warning or grateful encouragement?
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