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Updated: May 14, 2025
"You're a great little describer, Whitey," says I. "Simp is right. But next time you want to win front page space by losing a dramatist I'd advise you to lock him in a vault. Islands are too easy located." It was Mr. Piddie who first begun workin' up suspicions about Vincent, our fair haired super-office boy. But then, Piddie has that kind of a mind.
The captain's face was serious but there was the twinkle under his heavy brows. He pulled at his beard. "Humph!" he grunted. "Did you know Ves and Simp had been drinkin' when you hired 'em?" "Of course I didn't. After they had gone Issy said he suspected that they had been drinking a little, but I didn't know it. All I wanted was to prove to HIM," with a motion toward Mr.
Murk demanded. "You'll find that out in time maybe." "I guess I'd better know right now." "It is not necessary. Besides, we are not sure of you yet, please remember." "How could you ever be sure of me?" Murk cried. "If I threw down Mr. Prale, wouldn't I be liable to throw you down, if somebody happened along and raised the price? Why, you simp, I wouldn't turn against Mr.
If ever there's Russ now!" she interrupted herself to exclaim. "Oh, Ruth. It looks as though we were too late!" For Russ, with a dejected look on his face, was crossing the pavement toward the cab. "It it's gone," he said brokenly. "Simp Wolley was here a half-hour ago and got it!" "But how could he?" asked Alice in surprise. "Who gave it to him?" "Mr. Burton.
Lawrence was on the lookout for him when he arrived at the Embassy, and conducted him at once to his own private quarters, where they could be absolutely alone. "Now, Lawrence," said Edestone, when they had made themselves comfortable, "I want your assistance. Are you game?" "Well I ask you, you old simp!
"It's all right, for the time being, but I don't like what has happened. Simp Wolley must be getting desperate to come here in broad daylight and rummage the house under the pretense of being a plumber. It shows, too, that he must be watching this place, or he wouldn't have known when I went out." "Hadn't you better notify the police?" suggested Mr. DeVere. "I'll think about it," agreed Russ.
She felt she had wronged the pimpled office-boy. "We are not expecting him back this afternoon. Is there anything I can do?" He spoke tenderly. This weak-minded young man at school his coarse companions had called him Simp was thinking that he had never seen anything like Jill before. And it was true that she was looking very pretty, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.
'Never mind who I am' he says, 'I'm working' on this job, he says, 'an' this is a paper mill you're workin' in, he says, 'not a boiler factory. Treat the machinery accordin', like a real workman, he says. The simp!
Pisgah on the road to glory, Mr. Simp on the smooth sea, Mr. Freckle in the debtor's jail, Mr. Risque behind his four-in-hand, and Mr. Lees in the charity grave, let us sit with the two remaining colonists in the cabriolet at Bellinzona; for it is the month of April, and they are to cross the great St. Gothard en route for Paris.
It might have been a close calculation for a mathematician to know how many black sweat-drops, how many strokes of the rawhide, went into the celebrated dinner at the Maison Dorée, wherein Master Simp and only his lady had thirty-four courses, and eleven qualities of wine, and a bill of eight hundred francs. In that prosperous era, his inalienable comrade had been Mr.
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