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Updated: May 27, 2025
"Strite acrost under the trees there. They've gone to the bit of a wood down by the water." "Yes; that's a retired spot," panted Andrew. "Here, let's go on." "Can't, sir, and I darn't. It's a jewel, aren't it?" "Yes, a duel." "Well, I'm not going to be flogged or shot for the sake of a guinea, young gentlemen, and I won't.
'And Miss Mosk? 'She's a-tryin' to git 'im t' bed, is young missus, an' old missus is cryin' upstairs. 'I shall certainly speak about this to the authorities, said Cargrim, in an angry tone. 'You are sober enough to answer my questions, I hope? 'Yuss, sir; I'm strite, growled the pot-boy, pulling his forelock. 'Then tell me if that gipsy woman, Mother Jael, is here? 'No, sir, sh' ain't.
"Ay, theer's some deep holes hereabouts," said the man, trying in vain to reach the bottom with his long pole. "They wean't dree-ern they in a hurry, Mester Dick." "Good job too, Dave! We don't want our fishing spoiled. Now, then, how much further are you going?" "Strite across to wheer we saw that big pike rise, my lad." "Shall we catch him, Dave?" "Mebbe yes; mebbe no, my lad.
He shot a startled glance up into the black void above and then burying his face in his arms began to sob like a child. "What's wrong, man?" demanded Bradley. "Buck up! Can't play cry-baby. Waste of energy. What happened?" "Wot 'appened, sir!" wailed Tippet. "Oh, Gord, sir! Hit came back. Hit came for me, sir. Right hit did, sir; strite hat me, sir; hand with long w'ite 'ands it clawed for me.
"I'll lay a quart there ain't a finer 'ead piece than yours from 'Oxton to 'Ammersmith." "Thank you," said Harrison Smith. "Try and remember that and obey orders quick as you get 'em." "That's rite, captain, that's the talk. Give me a man wot talks strite." A Ford is a marvellous eater up of miles and Harrison Smith did not spare his engine nor linger upon the way.
Only, at this time, Hardenberg was on duty on the bridge. It was Ally Bazan who spoke instead. "Seems to me," he hazarded, "as haow they's somethin' or other a-goin' to bump up pretty blyme soon. I shouldn't be surprised, naow, y'know, if we piled her up on some bally uncharted reef along o' to-night and went strite daown afore we'd had a bloomin' charnce to s'y 'So long, gen'lemen all."
I'll tell yer strite. I never 'ad none. Nar!" William stood on tiptoe to peer under the untidy hair at the small apertures that in his strange new friend took the place of ears. Admiration shone in William's eyes. "Was you born without 'em?" he said enviously. His friend nodded.
I don't want any swells interferin' with my business. You 'op it. Is that strite enough? 'Op it, quick!" Sir Timothy's anger seemed to have abated. There was even the beginning of a smile upon his lips. All the time his hand caressed the neck of the horse. Francis noticed with amazement that the poor brute had raised his head and seemed to be making some faint effort at reciprocation.
Here Max took up the thread. "Mrs. Malplaquet had put it very strite, so she 'ad, and wot he wanted to know was what Mortimer 'ad to siy?" Mortimer was very suave in his reply; a bad sign, thought Desmond, for it indicated that he was not sure of himself.
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