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Updated: May 3, 2025
Sunday afternoon games and recreation are fine, but one enjoys them more if one has been to church in the morning or spent part of the day in either solitary or community worship. Those parents who selfishly seek only their own pleasures every weekend, who do nothing but amuse themselves are they likely to bring up their children successfully?
"There you go," Jennifer said, "who says you aren't musical?" Oliver changed the subject. "How's Rupert doing?" "Rupert . . ." She shrugged, frustrated. "Sometimes I think he doesn't even see me when he looks at me." "Do you think you'll have kids, someday?" It just popped out of his mouth. "I hope so. We've been trying." "This could be the weekend," Oliver said hopefully.
She well knew that some girls would think all this unnecessary, and that all she and Jon need do was to go away together for a weekend and then say to their people: "We are married by Nature, we must now be married by Law." But Fleur was Forsyte enough to feel such a proceeding dubious, and to dread her father's face when he heard of it.
"I am perfectly well, and in possession of all my faculties. Now tell me. Can you imagine anything more awful than to spend a weekend with Bodfish?" On the spur of the moment I could not. "Can you imagine anything more delightful, then, than not spending a weekend with Bodfish? Well, that's what I'm doing now.
Harold, who had often invited her to spend the weekend at Wilmot, where she had looked to the young girl's welfare, knowing how much she must miss Peggy this winter.
The next morning was Sang Huin's bit of a weekend and so Seong Seob feigned sickness in a phone call to his cousin. The cousin was indifferent and if he questioned the logic of calling in sick while being absent from the home that both of them shared, he did not mention it.
And if anyone calls or comes to see me here at the house tell him I'm sick. If necessary I'm ordering you to swear in court that I was here all day and night. Ursula's gone for the weekend to the seashore, so I'm depending on you. Do you understand?" John frowned in confusion. "You say you're sick and staying home all day?" Impatience edging his words Philon went over the explanation again.
Route 30 curved endlessly along the banks of the Pepacton Reservoir. Joe had the highest entrance score they'd ever recorded in that Air Force tech school. Sergeant Quimby told him, reading it, unbelieving. Joe was an athlete, a most likely to succeed guy; yet there he was every weekend in the BX with Shannon, fascinated by the aging bus boy loading his cart. And Shannon?
"Nothing." Acerbic guilt was bubbling within her. "I decided to come back this weekend," the man said. "What a surprise. Grading completed?" "Some of it. I guess you are okay. Why is your hair this way? What's the word?" He said something in Russian that she did not understand. "Disheveled. In the car windows down, me blowing in the wind. Guess I look a mess. Don't worry.
Doctor Conrad was coming down for the weekend, and probably both of them would be there late in the afternoon, or on Sunday. "How glad he'll be," said Barbara, to herself. "He'll be surprised when he sees how well I can walk. And father oh, if father could only come too." She was eager, in spite of her dread. Simply for the sake of exercise, Barbara climbed the attic stairs and came down again.
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