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Karslake announcing, in English, with every evidence of satisfaction: "Good! Then that's settled." To this the older man dissented tolerantly. "Pardon: nothing is settled; it is proposed, merely." "Well," said Karslake with a little laugh that to Sofia sounded empty, "at all events it ought to be amusing." The other lifted one eyebrow and smiled remotely. "You think so?"
Living in several cities, we rarely met after leaving school and had little to say to each other when we did. But it sounded so fine to be an “Ancient Senior,” and we hoped in our next school to impress new companions with that title and make them feel proper respect for us in consequence. Pride, however, sustained a fall when it was pointed out that the initials formed the ominous word “Ass.”
The melancholy pulse of the drums and the minor-keyed chant which issued out of the night sounded like a dirge sung by a dying people. "What became of Running Elk?" I inquired. The old man answered from within. "That was he I asked about the horse-races. He's the man you couldn't understand, who wouldn't talk to you. He's nearly an Indian again. Alicia Harman married a duke."
As he went on reading some one would discover that he was getting a wigging, and would give a jump, believing that all his failings were in the paper. When the time drew near for leaving off work, a brisker note sounded in the workshop.
The girl dropped the linen, and in a voice that sounded like a burst of hysterical feeling, she exclaimed "'Tis but the youth that came lately among us! We are spared the loss of any ancient friend." "Tis one who died for our safety. I would give largely of this world's comforts, that this calamity might not have been, or that greater leisure for the last fearful reckoning had been accorded.
I will follow you." "You cannot. If you tried, you would be sure to be captured. I might escape as you say, but you could not." "Oh, Brooke, try fly! Oh, I could kill myself rather than endure this any longer." "Talbot!" said Brooke, suddenly shaking her off. "What, Brooke?" "You're a fool!" "Yes, Brooke." "You're a fool!" he repeated, in a voice that sounded like a gasp.
The voice had an extraordinary sadness. Pure from all body, pure from all passion, going out into the world, solitary, unanswered, breaking against rocks so it sounded. Steele frowned; but was pleased by the effect of the black it was just THAT note which brought the rest together. "Ah, one may learn to paint at fifty!
Some suppressed ejaculation, and he pushed back his chair, and rose, and came across the room: at least it sounded so, and I ran down the stairs again. He followed me in a moment. The Doctor came forward and talked to him a little while, and then Richard called Patrick, and told Sophie to see that Mr. Langenau's room was ready.
"And I saw two signals. There were two brands being waved together." "To-night, we have comrades in the desert." "Comrades!" he said. His voice sounded startled. "Men who have escaped from a horrible death in the dunes." "Arabs?" "French." Quickly she told him her story. He listened in silence. When she had finished he said nothing.
As Robert opened the gate of the churchyard, and strolled listessly into the little inclosure, he became aware of the solemn music of an organ, audible through a half-open window in the steeple. He stopped and listened to the slow harmonies of a dreamy melody that sounded like an extempore composition of an accomplished player.
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