Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 19, 2025
There must be a shock to break it apart, or a vicious stabbing to cut through it to such spark as was still alive. Somebody must administer that shock or do that stabbing. Why not she? He would hate the sight of her forevermore, but ... "Mr. Queed," said Sharlee, turning toward him, "you let me see, from what you are doing this morning, that you think of Fifi as your friend.
"And I had to confess that I'd never read one either. I did begin one," said West "it was called 'Elementary Principles of Incidence and Distribution, I remember but the hour was eleven-thirty and I fell asleep." "I know exactly how you felt about it," said Sharlee, "for I have read them all moi!" He looked at her with boundless admiration. "His one reader!" "There are two of us, if you please.
"You do forgive me then? But no you talk to me just as though you had learned all this from somebody else as though I had not come to you voluntarily and told you everything." Sharlee did not like to look at his face, which she had always seen before so confident and gay. "No," said she sadly "for I am still your friend." "Friend!" He echoed the word wildly, contemptuously.
"No I have decided to keep it for a time at any rate." Sharlee smiled, but it was an inward smile and he never knew anything about it. "Have you gotten really interested in the work personally interested, I mean?" He hesitated. "I hardly like to say how much." "The more you become interested in it and I believe it will be progressive the less you will mind saying so."
Her syrup she took with commendable faithfulness; the doctor, in rare visits, spoke cheerily of the time when she was to be quite strong and well again; but there were moments when Sharlee Weyland, looking at her little cousin's face in repose, felt her heart stop still. Fifi dallied with her algebra, hoping and praying that she would not have to cough. She had been very happy all that day.
Beside the plate he had laid his watch, an open-faced nickel one about the size of a desk-clock. "Do you think that is everything?" "I believe that is all." "Do you remember me?" then asked Sharlee. He glanced at her briefly through his spectacles, his eyes soon returning to his supper. "I think not." The girl smiled suddenly, all by herself.
Perhaps, after all ... Mitts ... Why, look here, isn't there one small objection, one trifling want of the fulness of perfection to be raised against the gift of mitts?" "There's this point against mitts," said Sharlee slowly. "Fifi's in bed now, and I'm afraid she's likely to be there for some time. Of course she could not wear the mitts in bed.
Somewhere during the afternoon there had returned to Queed the words in which Sharlee Weyland had pointed out to him quite unnecessarily that he was standing here between two civilizations. On the porch now sat Miss Weyland's grandmother, representative of the dead aristocracy.
He removed his hat for the process, doing it with a certain painstaking precision which betrayed want of familiarity with the engaging rite. "I haven't seen you for a long time," said Sharlee brightly. The dear, old remark the moss-covered remark that hung in the well! How on earth could we live without it?
Everybody was excitedly calling everybody else's attention to things that seemed particularly important in the passing spectacle. To Queed the amount these people appeared to know about it all was amazing. All during the afternoon he heard Sharlee identifying fragments of regiments with a sureness of knowledge that he, an authority on knowledge, marveled at.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking