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He'll be thrown amang them who've ne'er had to gie thocht to the morrow and the morrow's morrow; who, if ever they've known the pinch o' poverty, ha' clean forgotten. But wull he care what they're thinkin' o' him, and saying, maybe, behind his back? Not he, if he be a true Scot. He'll gang his ain gait, satisfied if he but think he's doing richt as he sees and believes the richt to be.
Of course Ralph exaggerates what I said about him in connection with the invited dance and supper, though I don't justify what I did say; and if I'd known then, as I do now, what his history had been, I should have been more careful in my talk with him. I should be very sorry to have hurt his feelings, and I suppose people who've come up in that way are sensitive?"
Money, reputation, brains, health." "I don't see what more you can ask, short of a title, and titles not only never have all those qualities combined, but they are really getting decidedly nouveau richey and not respectable enough for a Huguenot family, who've lived two hundred and fifty years in New York. What a greedy mamma she is for her little girl." "Oh, Watts! But think!"
And you would fling such possibilities, such a career, aside for mere matrimony! It is nonsense, I tell you, sheer nonsense!" He paused for breath, and Diana laid her hand deprecatingly on his arm. "Dear Maestro," she said, "it's good of you to tell me all this, and and you mustn't think for one moment that I ever forget all you've done for me. It's you who've made my voice what it is.
"When the war is over and the soldiers all go back, that is them that's livin'," he said, "it won't be them that fought that'll keep the grudge. It's the women who've lost their own that'll hate longest." "I think what you say is true, Whitley," said Dick, "but let's not talk about it any more. It hurts." "Me too," said the sergeant. "But don't you like this country that we're ridin' through, Mr.
I happen to know what I'm talking about. The fellows who've got these guns are wild, irresponsible, unpractical fools. They've been giving us trouble for years, far more trouble than all the Unionist party put together. They don't understand politics in the least. They've no sense. They're like like " he looked round for some comparison, "in some ways they're rather like Tim." "Dreamers," I said.
It's mine, but I can't help following it back in my thoughts. What want has been caused by its passing into my hands? How much distress and weeping may be associated with it? And when I pay it out again I'm always troubled to think that those who've helped me get too little my washerwoman and the others. They can scarcely live, and the fault is mine among others!
"What?" said Miss Day, looking into the box at the dress alluded to. "O, I know what you mean that the vicar will never let me wear muslin?" "Yes." "Well, I know it is condemned by all orders in the church as flaunting, and unfit for common wear for girls who've their living to get; but we'll see." "In the interest of the church, I hope you don't speak seriously." "Yes, I do; but we'll see."
No fatheads wanted. Enough said." The Gunnery Lieutenant looked up from a game of draughts with Double-O Gerrard, the Assistant Paymaster. "Who've you got dining with you, Jimmy?" he asked. The introduction of "new blood" into a Mess, even for the evening, is generally a matter of interest to the inmates. "An old uncle of mine," was the reply.
You've got maybe ten seconds." "Nobody doublecrossed you, Zorn. Magnan put his foot in it. Too bad. Is that a reason to kill yourself and a lot of other people who've bet their lives on you?" "They gambled and lost. Tough." "Maybe you haven't lost yet if you don't quit." "Get to the point!" Retief spoke earnestly for a minute and a half. Zorn stood, gun aimed, listening.
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