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Updated: May 21, 2025
"A lean brother with a thin red beard, and a shrewd, puckered visage." "Ha! By that token 'twas Segrim the bursar. He wots how to drive a bargain. St. Austin! but he deemed you came to look after your kinsman's corrody." "He said the king spake of a visitation to abolish corrodies from religious houses," said Ambrose. "He'll abolish the long bow from them first," said Father Shoveller.
"Then push it 'ere, an' likewise them bloomin' 'igh-falutin' lar-de-dar giddy fag-papers you fumble wiv'. Blimey! ain't a honest clay good enough for yer now? I knows wots the matter wiv you, Billy Jones! You've got a weather-heye on the Quarter Deck you 'ave. You fink you're agoin' to be a blighted perishin' orficer you do!
Then in the evening, a grand gala reception at the Palazzo Castelmare, at which it was understood masks would be gladly welcomed by the host. On the night of the Tuesday, thirdly, the last great day of all, there was to be a grand masked ball at the Circolo dei Nobili; that ball of which and of its consequences on the Ash Wednesday morning, the reader already wots.
The dealer, who had just placed the bureau on the tail-board of the van, came back wiping his brow with his sleeve. "Wots the little game?" he demanded. Mr. Letts left the answer to Mr. Green, and going to the van took up the bureau and walked back to the house with it. Mr.
“Then tell her,” rejoined he, “that I spake again with the black-a-visaged, hump-shouldered old doctor, and he engages to bring his friend, the gentleman she wots of, aboard with him. So let thy mother take no thought, save for herself and thee. Wilt thou tell her this, thou witch-baby?”
"It's human lives we're saving to-night, not engines." "Gor lumme! Wots the use o' losin' the engine, too, I says. Any'ow, them rifles in there is more use to us 'ere than there at the trestle. An' I can't be savin' 'uman lives, women ones, in these togs." Murphy climbed back into the cab.
I has a frind wots a h-uncle that's ill: can you spare her, Bill, to attind him? That I can, says I; 'anything to obleedge. So Peg packs off, bag and baggidge." "And what was the sick gentleman's name?" asked Mr. R 's companion. "It was one Mr. Warney, a painter, wot lived at Clap'am. Since thin I've lost sight of Peg; for we had 'igh words about the childern, and she was a spiteful 'oman.
But he said he would commend me to a friend whose life would better show me how the new gives life to the old than any man he wots of." "One of thy old doctors in barnacles, I trow," said Stephen. "Nay, verily. We saw him t'other night perilling his life to stop the poor crazy prentices, and save the foreigners. Dennet and our uncle saw him pleading for them with the King." "What!
Lawrence was also watching her narrowly, and taking apparently a strange pleasure in so doing. At length an idea seemed to strike him. "I'll be off, and tell Sir Marcus of his coming guests," he exclaimed, shuffling out of the room. "He little wots how near at hand they are, and what strange tidings some of them may chance to bring.
"You're a thief and probably a murderer into the bargain you tried to kill this boy just before he shot you." "Well wots he?" demanded Dopey Charlie. "He's a thief he said he was look in his pockets they're crammed wid swag, an' he's a gun-man, too, or he wouldn't be packin' a gat. I guess he ain't got nothin' on me."
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