tongue-parched

Updated: May 8, 2025

Peters had a tablespoonful of the stuff inserted into him. Then Mrs. Peters sat on his lap and murmured: "Call me tootsum wootsums again, James." He sat still, held there by his materialized goddess of spring. Spring had come. On the bench in Union Square Mr. Ragsdale and Mr. Kidd squirmed, tongue-parched, awaiting D'Artagnan and his dollar. "I wish I had choked her at first," said Mr.

O. Henry - The Voice of the City: Further Stories of the Four Million