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"If yo're so shore the sheriff is going to serve those eviction papers," said Racey as calmly as he could because of the warning pressure on his wrist, "if yo're so shore why are you giving away five hundred?" "Because I don't like to be hard on Mis' Dale. Then, again, I'll admit we wanna get in here soon as we can." "You admit it, huh? That's a good one, that is. Don't you do it, Mis' Dale.
If anything slips up account o' this it's gotta be blamed on Peaches." "Yeah, I guess so. And Peaches ain't been here yet?" "Not yet, and I wish to Gawd he was never comin'." The man's tone was so earnest that Racey looked at him, startled. "Why not?" he asked, coldly. "Because I don't wanna get my head blowed off, that's why." "Aw, maybe it won't come to that. Maybe Luke will win out."
There were them twa, a' colloguing, and a-seetting ilk in ither's laps a' o'er, and a-keessing, yes, my leddy, a-keessing as females, not to say males, ought nae to keess, unless they be mon and wife, and then not amang the rocks, my leddy; and if his lairdship does nae care to hear tell o' it, and finds it nae tastefu', as your leddyship was saying, he should nae ha' sent for Andy Gowran a' the way from Portray, jist to tell him what he wanna hear, now I'm come to tell't to him!"
Beyond Lanpher and Tweezy are their heirs and assigns, whoever they may be. You can't go down the line and abolish 'em all." "I s'pose not," grumbled Racey. "Of course not. It ain't reasonable. You don't wanna bull along regardless like a bufflehead in this, Racey. You wanna use yore brains a few. They'll always go farther than main strength.
"Aye, she'll git tired of deh life atter a while an' den she'll wanna be a-comin' home, won' she, deh beast! I'll let 'er in den, won' I?" "Well, I didn' mean none of dis prod'gal bus'ness anyway," explained Jimmie. "It wasn't no prod'gal dauter, yeh damn fool," said the mother. "It was prod'gal son, anyhow." "I know dat," said Jimmie. For a time they sat in silence.
The Chief grumbled, but somehow his grumbling did not sound genuine. "They're going to the Moon and leave us here to do stevedore stuff?" His tone was odd. He looked at a letter he'd been reading and gave up pretense. He said self-consciously: "Listen, you guys.... My tribe's got all excited. I just got a letter from the council. They've been having an argument about me. Wanna hear?"
When anybody was sick ice cream could make them well. So Mrs. Sardotopolis lifted Joe up and turned her eyes toward an ice cream stand. She stopped. If Joe said, "Wanna," she would buy him some. But Joe didn't seem to know what she was offering, although usually he was quite a citizen. So she said aloud, "Wanna ice cream, Joe?" To this Joe made no answer except to let his head fall back. Mrs.
Clinging to the supports of the stairway, he addressed Lanyard in accents of blended suspicion and respect. "Lis'n, boss: is this all right, on the level, now?" "Absolutely, unless that racing-car catches up with us, in which case you'll have a dead man myself on your hands." "Well ... we don't wanna lose our jobs, that's all." "You won't unless I lose my life." "Anything you'd like me to do?"
How tired she looked, Hannah Winter thought. Little Martha. Two babies, and she only a baby herself yesterday. How tired she looked. "I wanna go!" wailed Joan, from her bedroom prison. "I wanna go to-morrow. You promised me. You said I could. I wanna GO!" "And I say you can't. Mother has to give up her holiday, too, because of you. And yet you don't hear me "
"Don't wanna talk!" he threw back, sullenly. "All right," she agreed; "anything you say... Got a cigarette?" He drew out a box and she selected one. The waiter hovered about significantly. Fred ordered coffee ... Ginger took Whiterock. They were silent. The music crashed and banged and whinnied, and the air grew thick with the mingled odors of smoke and stale drinks and sex.
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