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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Are the men Americans?" he asked. "I doubt it," Tom said. "They speak English well enough, but with a faint accent. Somehow, I have a hunch they're Brungarians." Ames whistled. "That could spell trouble, skipper." More than once, Brungarian rebel agents had engaged in brazen plots against America and the Swifts. "Let's hope I'm wrong," Tom said wryly.
He took a grape from a bunch beside him, rubbed the soot off on his trousers, and ate it; then blinked wryly. "Gorry, that's sour." "You don't like my engagement!" Elizabeth declared slowly. Reproachful tears stood in her eyes; she fastened her dress with indignant fingers. "I think you are perfectly horrid not to be sympathetic. It's very important to a girl to get engaged and have a ring."
There are no vacancies, and there is a waiting list of ten who have a greater right I'm sorry." "Too bad," said our host. "He's a quiet, unobtrusive child." "A very naughty little rascal, I should say," said Julian Mastakovich, wryly. "Go away, boy. Why are you here still? Be off with you to the other children." Unable to control himself, he gave me a sidelong glance. Nor could I control myself.
There was a stampede for coats and hats, a rush for cars as if the house were on fire, or Dundee reflected wryly as if those he had tortured were afraid he would change his mind. Rushing away with hatred of him in their hearts.... Only Penny Crain held back, maneuvering for a chance to speak with him. "I don't have to go with the rest, do I?" she begged in a husky whisper. "And why not?"
"I ought to be," Dick said, as he sat down and began to straighten out the muddle in front of him. Robin knelt up by his side. "Please don't be, Dicky!" he said very earnestly. "I won't ever do it again. I swear I won't." Dick smiled somewhat wryly. "No. You'll probably think of some other devilry even worse." He put his arm round the humped shoulders with the words.
Guess a man gets used to anything ... Hell, maybe I can hire some bums to sit around and whoop it up when the ships come in, and bill this as a real old Martian den of sin! Get a barker out at the port, run special busses, charge the suckers a mint for a cheap thrill." Gordon grinned wryly; Fats would probably make more than ever.
Joe wondered in amusement how often the little man had found occasion to call a Mid-Middle by his first name. "No trank," he said. "Alcohol for me. Mankind's old faithful." "Well," Max debated, "get high on alcohol and bingo, a hangover in the morning. But trank? You wake up with a smile." "And a desire for more trank to keep the mood going," Joe said wryly.
"Had found is right past tense," Tom said wryly. "It's no doubt buried again. But at least we have the right spot." They emerged from the jetmarine and headed back toward the site. As they glided astern of the Sea Hound, Tom uttered a cry over his suit mike. "Bud! There it is!" Both boys darted ahead at increased speed, and Tom played his flashlight beam over the precious treasure.
My reputation ain't what it ought to be, no one knows that better than I, or feels it more; but, honest to God, Gallito, I ain't as black as I've been painted. No man is, probably. Now, what I got to say is this " "No need to say it, Mr. Hanson," interrupted Gallito, who had been twisting his mouth wryly during these remarks.
He moved mechanically toward the door. . . . Yes, he cared more for Joan's happiness than for his own. And she was suffering. Why, the tired truth of it was, he loved them both enough to want to see them happy . . . And he would be a part of Don's erratic atonement. He smiled wryly and realized with a start that he was already out-of-doors, walking dazedly toward the cabin in the pines.
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