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It would be a pity to spoil it. P'raps I won't run it up at all." Harold came round the corner like a bison pursued by Indians. "I've polished up the cannons," he cried, "and they look grand! Mayn't I load 'em now?" "Don't touch the gunpowder till you're told, or you'll get your head smacked." Harold fell behind, limp, squashed, obedient. "She wants me to write to her," he began, presently.
For a moment, there was a tense silence, then Mrs. Dodd tittered hysterically. "We thought diamonds was goin' to be trumps," she observed, "an' it turned out to be spades." Uncle Israel wheezed again and Mrs. Smithers smacked her lips with intense satisfaction. Mrs. Holmes was pale with anger, and, under cover of the night, Dick sneaked back to his room, shame-faced, yet happy.
That decision saved my life. I clambered down, chose a rock to sit behind, and was just putting my hand in my pocket for my packet of sandwiches, when "Crack!" something whistled close to my head and smacked against a ledge behind me. "Crack!" again, and the smack this time resounded from the rock beside me. At the third "Crack!"
Then, fool, you ought to have had a slipper smacked across that Kalmuck snout of yours. Talk of my price, indeed!" Upon this Virubov had remarked with a sigh, and in sluggish, sententious tones: "To grant the serfs emancipation was a sheer mistake. I am a humble enough servant of my country, yet I can see the truth of what I have stated, since it follows as a matter of course.
This huge monster being with infinite labor hoisted on board, furnished a luxurious repast to all the crew, being accounted of excellent flavor, excepting about the wound, where it smacked a little of brimstone; and this, on my veracity, was the first time that ever sturgeon was eaten in those parts by Christian people.
Not that John and Robert drew very close together in their lives; for John was rough he smelt of the windy brae; and Robert was gentle, and smacked of the garden in the hollow.
Rene lied up-hill and down-dale, while in a corner of the room Francois monotonously wept. Fate grinned and went on with her weaving. "Necessite Faict Gens Mesprende" The Rue Saint Jacques had toothsome sauce for its breakfast. The quarter smacked stiff lips over the news, as it pictured Francois de Montcorbier dangling from Montfaucon.
And then he added apologetically, "It's 'cause I've sailed under so many grayheads, ye know." "Oh, I'll be gray enough before long," laughed Dan, and his momentary inattention to his duties at the wheel was promptly seized upon by the wily sea, which smacked the rudder hard and nearly spun the wheel out of his grip. "Stop talking, will you!" roared Dan, wrestling at the spokes.
Mina was annoyed, and set herself to be merry; a glance from Lady Flora converted vexation into rage. She turned back to Theo; somehow Mr Disney had taught her how to like him often a valuable lesson, if people would keep their eyes open for it. "Everybody else I've met has been horribly afraid of Mr Disney," she said in a half-whisper. "Oh, you aren't in a funk of a man who's smacked your head!"
Pauline remained silent, placing a little bottle of cordial before their visitor, with which he presently regaled himself, raising his glass with an air. "Many happy returns to us both!" he said, and threw the liqueur down his throat, smacked his lips, and drew his hand down his great mustache and beard, like some vast animal washing its face with its paw.
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