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Updated: May 22, 2025
Alas! many are working in fetters in the mines of Siberia, and the rest are scattered over the face of the globe." III. Samuel Brohl Comes to Life But, though none of Count Larinski's friends was able to appear at Cormeilles, one of Samuel Brohl's old acquaintances came to the party. On entering the drawing-room, he saw an old, ugly, sharp-faced woman, talking in a corner with Camille Langis.
An odd, quiet chap, Dudley Byron, who never figured much anywhere, one of the kind you can fill in with reckless and depend on not to make a break or get in the way. He's a slim, sharp-faced young gent, with pale hair plastered down tight, and deep-set gray eyes that sort of wander around aimless.
He was sharp-faced, pinched for food, and in tatters, as disreputable-looking as the hag herself. Meg whispered something to him, and, as though galvanized by an electric current, the boy shot up-stairs. He was soon back again with two brutal-looking men who looked suspiciously at Balcom and then shuffled into a corner, where they conferred eagerly with Old Meg.
His eyelids scarcely stirred. Then again there came a tapping, this time at the door. The frown returned to his face. He looked up. "Well?" The door opened. A small, sharp-faced boy poked in his head. "A lady to see you, sir." "What?" said Field. His frown deepened. "I can't see any one. I told you so." "Says she won't go away till she's seen you, sir," returned the boy glibly.
Miss Farmer, it appeared, had been enjoying a "day off," and was not expected back till late. He knelt down beside the little girl, feeding his eyes upon her. She lay with her delicate face pressed into the pillow, the small neck visible under the cloud of hair, one hand, the soft palm uppermost, on the sheet. He bent down and kissed the hand, glad that the sharp-faced nurse was not there to see.
"We come in here to see if that was Eva Loud," said one, a sharp-faced, alert girl, not pretty, but a favorite among the male employés, to the constant wonder of the other girls. "Yes, it's her fast enough," rejoined another, a sweet-faced blonde with an exaggeratedly fashionable coiffure and a noticeable smartness in the tie of her neck-ribbon and the set of her cotton waist.
He turned round this time to look at the speaker, and confronted a wizen, flaxen-haired, sharp-faced man, dressed in a jaunty shooting-jacket, carrying a riding-cane in his hand, and having a thorough-bred black-and-tan terrier in attendance at his heels. "Excuse me asking the question," said the wizen man; "but I noticed how dumbfoundered you were when you saw the coffin come out.
Prince Duncan went up-stairs, and paused before a door on which was inscribed: SHARP & KETCHUM BANKERS LOANS NEGOTIATED He opened the door, and found the room furnished in the style of a private banking-office. "Is Mr. Sharp or Mr. Ketchum in?" he inquired of a sharp-faced young clerk, the son, as it turned out, of the senior partner. "Yes, sir, Mr. Sharp is in." "Is he at leisure?
At this point a sharp-faced lawyer from Belfast got to his feet and objected that the gentleman from Elkington was wasting the time of the House, indulging in hearsay. His remarks were not germane, etc. The Speaker rapped again, with a fine show of impartiality, and cautioned the member from Elkington. "Very well," replied Krebs.
He was a dark complexioned, sharp-faced man, with a little black moustache and a long drooping nose. He had bright black, narrow eyes, piercing but rather shifty. He wore a round fur cap and an overcoat with a cape. The figure in the stairway entrance sat exactly as Charley had left him, except that he appeared to have gathered his coat pockets tighter. "See?" directed Charley. "Humph!"
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