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Updated: May 11, 2025
The Minster twins gazed soulfully at the Atlantic; Eileen Erroll bit her under lip and stood up suddenly. "Come on," she said; joined her hands skyward, poised, and plunged. One after another the others followed and, rising to the surface, struck out shoreward. On the sunlit sands dozens of young people were hurling tennis-balls at each other.
She described it all so gravely, soulfully, pathetically, with such a brooding, contemplative backward searching of the mind, that he was astonished and in a way touched. What a pity! It was Gardner Knowles who had done this, she admitted. But he was not very much to blame, either. It just happened. She had tried to protest, but Wasn't she angry?
"I hope the dear child is not tired," said the Frau Doktor. "Not at all." "I expect, I hope you will sleep well to-night," the Herr Oberlehrer said reverently. "Yes." The poet from Munich never took his eyes off the pair. He allowed his tie to absorb most of his coffee while he gazed at them exceedingly soulfully. Unyoking Pegasus, thought I. Death spasms of his Odes to Solitude!
George Lidwell, eyelid well expressive, fullbusted satin. Kernan. Si. The sighing voice of sorrow sang. His sins. Since Easter he had cursed three times. You bitch's bast. And once at masstime he had gone to play. Once by the churchyard he had passed and for his mother's rest he had not prayed. A boy. A croppy boy. Bronze, listening, by the beerpull gazed far away. Soulfully.
On the back platform the Tucker twins raised their voices in a school yell that would have horrified the dignified heads of the Academy had they been there to hear it. "I'm Salsette born!" trilled Tommy Tucker soulfully. "And Salsette bred!" chimed in his brother "And when I die " caroled Tommy. "I'll be Salsette dead!" they finished together.
and the males in the audience will shift their chewing gum to the other cheek and take a firmer grip of their companion's hands and the man at the piano will play "Everybody wants a key to my cellar," or something equally appropriate, very soulfully and slowly, with a wistful eye on the half-smoked cigarette which he has parked on the lowest octave and intends finishing as soon as the picture is over.
His voice arose in short, piercing yells. He turned purple with rage and pain. He drew up his knees and simply, soulfully screamed. Up and down the street neighbors came out upon their verandas, napkins in hand, and stared wonderingly at the Fenelby porch. Kitty and Billy stood like a wooden Mr. and Mrs. Noah in the toy ark, but Mr.
Pffeffenfifer sells in such a soulfully seductive way that eats acquire virtues above and beyond their own base selves. Mr. Pffeffenfifer can infuse soul into a sausage. Behold now, eats the most alluring. See, what's this! Ah, yes, here we have, item: Salmi, redolent of garlic! Here again a head cheese, succulent and savoury; here's ham, most ravishingly pink and a Camembert cheese."
"What do you say, Edgerton?" said Pumpelly, turning to the disgruntled Wilfred and for the first time in years assuming charge of his own domestic affairs. "I should say that it was an excellent compromise!" answered the lawyer soulfully. "There's something in the Bible, isn't there, about pulling the mote out of your own eye before attempting to remove the beam from anybody's else?"
"Not a bad idea," he said, "though I don't like to mix heart affairs with politics." "Yes," said Mr. Avery, soulfully, "there may be something in it. I don't know. You never can tell." The upshot of this was that the task of obtaining an account of Mr. Sluss's habits, tastes, and proclivities was assigned to that now rather dignified legal personage, Mr.
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