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Updated: May 11, 2025
Ashe asked, while Herman sighed. "A warning. A dozen years ago he was one of the most promising men about. He had made a good beginning, he was clever and popular, and both as a novelist and as a playwright we hoped for great things from him." "And now?" "Now he is a failure." Herman looked up almost reprovingly. "I don't think he would recognize that," he observed.
"Who do you expect will bid in a second-hand gravestone?" "It ain't second-hand," replied the owner, reprovingly, as he eased himself out of the wagon. "Mis' Gammon, my first wife, is buried there. 'Twas by her request. She made her own layin'-out clothes, picked her bearers and music, and selected the casket. She was a capable woman."
With a deep sigh Nekhludoff made a low bow, shook the large, bony hand condescendingly stretched out to him and left the room. The General shook his head reprovingly, and rubbing his back, he again went into the drawing-room where the artist was waiting for him. He had already written down the answer given by the soul of Joan of Arc.
"Of course not! he isn't anybody's enemy," she told him reprovingly. David turned silently to his rabbits. "Why did you think he was your enemy?" she persisted. "I only just hoped he wasn't; I don't want to love him." "What!" "If he was my enemy, I'd have to love him, you know," David explained patiently. Helena in her confused astonishment knew not what to reply.
"O.K.," replied Dick, sententiously. "Oh! how often must I tell you not to use those odious slang terms?" said his wife, reprovingly. "Oh! Mrs. John Seymour knows me of old," said Mr. Follingsbee, winking facetiously at Lillie. "We've had many a jolly lark together; haven't we, Lill?" "Certainly we have," said Lillie, affably. "But come, darling," she added to Mrs.
He appeared insignificant when compared with the strong, well-built officer near him; but his pale, sharply cut face wore a look of cold, superior repose, and the sarcastic expression around the thin lips, together with his aristocratic air and bearing, suggested a hidden strength behind a feeble exterior. "You take life too hard, Falkenried," he said reprovingly.
There was a pause, in which every muscle of the man's body, and especially the facial muscles, and every secret fibre of his soul, perceptibly stiffened. And then Omicron answered, curtly, rebuttingly, reprovingly, snappishly, finishingly: "I don't know." And took up his newspaper, whose fragile crackling wall defended him from attack every bit as well as a screen of twelve-inch armour-plating.
I'm sure I'm glad you're a-going to better yourselves, for you desarve it; but it'll be the worse for us." "Ay," said Johnson despondingly; "first one prop's taken away, and then another; and after a bit the roof'll fall in, and make an end on us." "Nay, nay, man," said his friend reprovingly, "it's not come to that yet. You forget the best of all Friends, the Lord Jesus Christ.
"Caroline, remember that this is not our house," says he, reprovingly. There fell a deep silence; the log cracking; and just then the door swung on its hinges, and Mr. Starkie entered with the great bunch of keys in his hand. "The buildings are all secure; Mr. Richard," he said. "Very good, Starkie," I replied. I turned to Scipio, standing by the low-boy, his teeth, going like a castanet.
"And if she was," said Evelyn, reprovingly, "is not that an extra reason for his giving up anything that will remind people of it? And we ought to try and forget it, Ruth, and behave just the same to him as if she had been an Englishwoman. I wonder if he is a Roman Catholic?" "Ask him." "I hope he is not," continued Evelyn, taking up her candle to go. "We never had one to stay in the house before.
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