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Updated: June 6, 2025


"I am afraid, my Lord, King is very bad. He eats nothing, and complains a good deal." "Of what does he complain?" asked R . "Of a dull pain in his stomach, my Lord," replied D , "and a continual desire to retch." "Oh! it's only a little attack of bile," observed R ; "I will soon put him to rights."

Not much," answered Mr. Kernan. "But it's so sickening. I feel as if I wanted to retch off." "That's the boose," said Mr. Cunningham firmly. "No," said Mr. Kernan. "I think I caught cold on the car. There's something keeps coming into my throat, phlegm or " "Mucus." said Mr. M'Coy. "It keeps coming like from down in my throat; sickening." "Yes, yes," said Mr. M'Coy, "that's the thorax."

Murphy at length gasped out, "Pray, John, pray! Command the thing in the name of God to depart." Mr. Murphy made a desperate effort to do so, but not a syllable would come. The head now veered round and was moving swiftly towards them, its awful stench causing them both to retch and vomit. Mr. Murphy, seizing his stick, lashed at it with all his might.

"Yas'm, come off an' furgot twenty-fi' cents dat I wanted to fetch wid me. I owes er quarter ter er crap-shootin' nigger ober dar, an' when I kain't pay him he gwine retch his han' up atter my wool. I doan want no big nigger retchin' atter me, caze I ain't right well dis mawin'. Co'se ef I wuz well I wouldn' mine it so much, but ez it is, it bodders me might'ly.

"Hit wuz dis way, boss: I wuz layin' in my bed dis mawnin' sorter ruminatin' 'roun', when de fus news I know'd I year a fus' 'mong de chickens, an' den my brissels riz. I done had lots er trubble wid dem chickens, an' w'en I years wun un um squall my ve'y shoes comes ontied. So I des sorter riz up an' retch fer my ole muskit, and den I crope out er de back do', an' w'atter you reckin I seed?"

For now the third poultice, most powerful of all, was in place, and Mrs. Squaw was binding it on as though she intended it never to come off. Two minutes after that Tom Reade commenced to retch violently. With a memory of the messes that he had swallowed he didn't wonder. The squaw now stepped outside, calling for coffee. This was brought.

I 'm aiming to show you the prettiest country God ever made. Then he holp me into a chariot that run purely by the might of its own manoeuvers, and I seed tall houses and chimblys whiz by dimlike, and then atter a while he retch over and lifted my glasses. "Women, the tongue of Seraphim hain't competent to tell what I seed then!

Madame de Thianges, Madame de Nevers, and myself did all that lay in our power to distract or relieve the sorrows of the Prince; but the loss of Mademoiselle de Chatillon, his charming spouse, was much more present with him than that of his states; the bitterness which he drew from it was out of the retch of all consolation possible.

They drank new, sweet, sparkling cider and heady red wine, and after each course they whetted their appetites with some old apple brandy. The devil drank and ate to his heart's content; in fact he took so much that he was very uncomfortable, and began to retch. Then Saint Michael arose in anger and cried in a voice like thunder: "What! before me, rascal! You dare before me "

He went back to his table, but he couldn't work now, and he felt vaguely uneasy and cold. He was just going to leave his work and find the Retch and settle down to a comfortable read, when he heard the hall door close. He stood behind his little glass window and watched; it was Vera, perhaps... it must be... his heart began eagerly to beat. It was Vera.

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