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Updated: May 27, 2025
But I ain't go for hide in de bush! Ah'll be honest mans, me. Ah'll go for walk where all mans can see, ain't it? What Ah'll go hide for, me?" Paige drew a square on Mr. Peaslee's side of the fence, directly opposite the bushes. "That," said he, "is Mr. Peaslee's hen-house," and he brushed the chalk from his fingers with an air of indifference. "So-o?" cried Pete, with an air of pleased surprise.
The doctor called Klimov "young man," said "goo-od" instead of "good" and "so-o" instead of "so." "So-o . . . so-o . . . so-o," he murmured. "Goo-od, goo-od . . . ! Excellent, young man. You mustn't lose heart!" The doctor's rapid, careless talk, his well-fed countenance, and condescending "young man," irritated Klimov. "Why do you call me 'young man'?" he moaned. "What familiarity! Damn it all!"
But when the dismal old squaw blundered into the room, more blinded by grief and tears than infirmity, the identity of his visitor came back suddenly to him with the recollections of the past, and in all the transcendent joy of an invaluable possession he called out, "Look, mamma! Ain't her pretty? So-o pretty! Me s-sweet Polly Hopkins!"
There was a silence. Marco knew that his companion was pausing to turn something over in his mind. "So-o?" he said slowly, at length. "The Lamp is lighted. And you are sent to bear the Sign." Something in his voice made Marco feel that he was smiling. "What a race you are! What a race you Samavian Loristans!" He paused as if to think the thing over again. "I want to see your face," he said next.
And anyway, there hasn't been nearly so much talk about him since his engagement was announced." "He is engaged?" "Why, yes." "To a girl in this city!" "Sure! I thought you knew that. Dandy girl Hazel Gresham. You've heard of Garry Gresham? It's his kid sister." "So-o! How long has this engagement been known?" "Couple of months. Pretty soft on both sides; he's got money and so has she.
I want I want so-o to live to see Daddy's rocket go off!... He ..." The stiff sobs tumbled apart there, as it were.
"I don't know, your worship," he said. "I was drunk and don't remember." "An alibi!" whispered Dukovski, smiling, and rubbing his hands. "So-o! And why is there blood under the master's window?" Nicholas jerked his head up and considered. "Hurry up!" said the Captain of Police. "Right away! That blood doesn't amount to anything, your worship! I was cutting a chicken's throat.
Not until a pause occurred between two courses did von Tungern alter his manner. Then, like an inquisitor who has succeeded in convicting the person accused, he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied, long-drawn "So-o," wiped his moist chin, and began: "You have showed me your state of mind plainly enough, my young Herr Doctor. Your name is Eberbach, if I am not mistaken.
Malignant thoughts about Trirodov again took possession of their minds. Ostrov continued: "I had no suspicion that Trirodov lived here. He is a very old and intimate acquaintance of mine. I might say we are friends." "So-o," said Zherbenev severely, glancing at Ostrov with disapproval. Something in Ostrov's voice and manner aroused their antagonism. His glance was certainly impudent.
"Drop the silly stuff, Jennechka. I came about the passport." "So-o. About the passport," Jennka went into thought. "That is, there's no passport here, but you must take a blank from the housekeeper. You understand, our usual prostitute's blank; and then they'll exchange it for you for a real book at the station house. Only you see, my dear, I will be but ill help to you in this business.
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