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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Behave as you would with anyone else," she said. "How do you feel, Jimmie?" inquired Fanny. There was an expression of comical consternation on the shipping clerk's face as he pointed to the broken vase. "I'm not worrying about meeting him," he said ruefully. "I'm worrying about that " The next instant the door leading to the hall opened and Robert Stafford entered.
They had both been delayed by their affairs. However, the Count, having settled some worrying matters to his own advantage, was very lively, whilst the priest on his side was again hopeful, and yielded to the delightful charm of that last fine day. And so the meal proved a very pleasant one in the large, bright room, which, as usual at that season of the year, was quite deserted.
"I've been worrying about that, too, sir," he said. "I can't understand why he hasn't jumped us, already. I know it takes time to get one of these geek armies on the road, but...." "He's hoping our native-troops and the mine laborers will be able to wipe us out, themselves," von Schlichten said.
It was strange how so little a thing as the union of a spermatozoon and an ovum could produce so much trouble. He looked across the office at Copper placidly filing case cards. She wasn't worrying. With sublime faith, she was sure that he would find the answer, the one that would solve everything. He shuddered. The only logical solution was abortion and that was unthinkable!
Worrying wasn't going to help matters. What if they did come? Let them come. Fill up the street and begin their damn shooting. They didn't think Lucky Tommy was sucker enough to let them march him up on a scaffold and break his neck on the end of a rope. Fat chance. Not him. That sort of stuff happened to other guys, not to Lucky Tommy. Snowing outside. And quiet. Everybody at work.
Connie watched the girl with misgivings and doubts, and Ellice knew that the elder girl was watching her. "Connie, I want to speak to you," she said quietly one morning. "Yes, darling?" Ellice slipped her small brown hand into Connie's. "I I know that you are worrying, dear, that you are anxious and for me." Connie nodded, tears came into her eyes.
After all, there's no fool like a young fool. So don't go wandering off. Just stay here and polish your sword and wait until I return. I think my magic will do a great deal this afternoon." "Touché!" Jack Odin thought as Gunnar departed. "So he's been worrying about me and the girls, has he?" Odin polished his sword and looked at the paintings. But the entire palace seemed to be whispering.
He blew a cloud of smoke into the air. "Are you still worrying about the future?" he said. "I don't know that I am exactly worrying," she made low reply. "But I shall have to decide about it very soon." Scott was silent for a space while he finished his cigarette. Then at last slowly, haltingly, he spoke. "Dinah, I have been thinking about the future too.
But Bently's nose was frosted on an average of once a day. Nearly all of this time I lay at the lumber camp worrying about Hubbard's body. One day late in January, when I had been hoping that the body had been safely brought out, Mackenzie and George arrived from Northwest River with the news that the storms had been so continuous it had not been deemed wise to attempt the journey inland.
She could not hide her grief, and was continually worrying me with questions of affectionate pity. She repeated the same things over and over again, with hateful persistence. She had vexed me, without knowing it! Was I already tired of my married life, and did I regret my lost liberty?
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