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Updated: May 11, 2025
Oh, I am not his friend now. Mr. Blake, forgive me. Ah, say " I felt that if I allowed this man to think my welfare depended on his doing my will, he would defy me. I must use means suitable to the man. "Kaffar," I said, "had I a heart like you Egyptians, you know what I should do; but well, I will be merciful on one condition." "Oh, what-what?"
His look is a mixture of laziness and impudence, and half his sentences he ends up with "What?" or even "What-what?" His way with women is slightly condescending, and takes their approval for granted.
This morning you went past the garden gate and now I find you here. What-what is it you want of us?" "I will tell you what I want, Mrs. Bernauer, but first I want to speak to you alone. Mr. Franz doesn't mind leaving us for a while, does he?" "But why?" said the old man hesitatingly. He didn't understand at all what was going on and he would much rather have remained.
And so, like a swarm of giant insects circling about an electric light from whose magic influence they could not escape, our ships went on, to be whipped against the earth in passing and then to continue their swift journey to destruction. "Thank God, this saves us," suddenly cried Mr. Edison. "What-what?" "Why, the earth, of course.
He was so utterly struck dumb at the sight of it that he could only stammer out: "What-what is it? How should I know? I have done nothing, I will swear. I don't know what is the matter with the umbrella." "You have been playing tricks with it at the office; you have been playing the fool and opening it, to show it off!" she screamed.
And they were going to drive back that afternoon, what-what? And how about eats, old dear? Instantly he brought reassurance to her. Ward was such a dear! Of course she loved him. "But you weren't a very good boy last night!" she said. Their hands were locked; but she had shaken a negative when he would have kissed her. Bottomley was everywhere at once. "Rotten!" he confessed, easily.
He was so utterly struck dumb at the sight of it that he could only stammer out: "What-what is it? How should I know? I have done nothing, I will swear. I don't know what is the matter with the umbrella." "You have been playing tricks with it at the office; you have been playing the fool and opening it, to show it off!" she screamed.
He threw out his legs a good deal when he walked and came down with his feet rather flat, and he stooped ever so little with the easy slouch that came in with the one-button sack suit. It's the walk you see used by English actors of the what-what school who come over here to play gentlemanly juveniles.
This is a bedroom, what-what, not a house for some apes? Then for what do blighters sit on my window so cool as a few cucumbers, making some faces?" "Quite," I said. Dashed reasonable, was my verdict. He threw another look up at Gussie, and did Exercise 2 the one where you clutch the moustache, give it a tug and then start catching flies. "Wait yet a little. I am not finish.
"What do you mean? Turnin' red! Who's turnin' red?" "You are," said the young lady, firmly, "and you know it. Now, look me straight in the eye. Uncle Shad Gould, don't you think it would have been more honorable, if you wished to know whether Crawford Smith and I corresponded, to have asked me instead of hinting? Don't you think it would?" "Hintin'? Why why, Mary-'Gusta, what-what ?"
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