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Updated: June 15, 2025
In these all but healthy volumes, Barbey d'Aurevilly constantly hesitated between those two pits which the Catholic religion succeeds in reconciling: mysticism and sadism. In these two books which Des Esseintes was thumbing, Barbey had lost all prudence, given full rein to his steed, and galloped at full speed over roads to their farthest limits.
The Jew was thumbing the pages, with his black ringlets close above them. "Novels in office-hours!" said he; but he was very good-natured about it, and added, "I've one or two books at home, if you're fond of this kind of reading, and will promise me not to forget your duties." "Oh, I promise!" said I.
At one station at which they stopped, a newsboy came through the train, crying his wares, and Dick purchased several metropolitan evening papers and handed them around. "Nothing but politics, a murder, a big auto race, and a new war in Central America," remarked Tom, thumbing over his paper. "How tired the reporters must get of writing about the same kind of things every day."
Yet, had anyone watched Dan Dalzell, it would have been found that young man was in the reference room, and reading, or thumbing -of all volumes in the English language -the city directory! When recess broke, Dick & Co. quickly got together.
"Yes, yes, you can explain all you wish, young man, but you cannot get around those other texts I quoted. 'He that saith he liveth and sinneth not is a liar and the truth is not in him. That's Bible, I tell you," said Peter with vigor. "Where is that in the Bible?" demanded Robert. "It is there somewhere. I will find it soon," said Peter as he started thumbing his Bible.
After thumbing the diary listlessly for several minutes pausing now and then at a paragraph he began to write. He put the events of the day down precisely in their logical sequence. The Committee took over the dining area when the general left for his tour of inspection.
Trask slipped the pistol from his holster, thumbing off the safety. "I am Lucas Trask. You've heard that name before," he said. "Stand away from behind him, you people." "Oh, yes; the poor fool who thought he was going to marry Elaine Karvall. Well, you won't, Lord Trask of Traskon. She loves me, not you. She's waiting for me now, on Gram...." Trask shot him through the head.
Bitterly had Mosher stood in the fore of that court room, thumbing his hat, his heart gangrening, and trying in a dumbly miserable sort of way to press down, with his hand on her shoulder, some of the heaving of Sara's enormous tears.
Personages at the tavern: the Governor, somewhat stared after as he walked through the bar-room; Councillors seated about, sitting on benches near the bar, or on the stoop along the front of the house; the Adjutant-General of the State; two young Blue-Noses, from Canada or the Provinces; a gentleman "thumbing his hat" for liquor, or perhaps playing off the trick of the "honest landlord" on some stranger.
He stood near the table for some minutes, apparently looking on casually; then his left fist came down on one of the cards. "A hundred on this one," he said, and began thumbing out a roll with his other hand. "You ain't playin'," said the dealer. "You ain't in on this." "Ain't I? What do you say, fellows?" turning to the crowd. "Am I in or not?" "Sure you're in," they exclaimed.
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