United States or Vatican City ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Memory, with phantom voices, repeated in his ears something similar, something he had once said to Herrick years ago it seemed. "Now, gimme over your pistol," said Huish. "I 'ave to see all clear. Six shots, and mind you don't wyste them." The captain, like a man in a nightmare, laid down his revolver on the table, and Huish wiped the cartridges and oiled the works.
But there's one thing sure: I'll 'ear no more of your moonin', mullygrubbin' rot, and tyke it stryte. The captain took it with a blink and a gulp. Memory, with phantom voices, repeated in his cars something similar, something he had once said to Herrick years ago it seemed. 'Now, gimme over your pistol, said Huish. 'I 'ave to see all clear. Six shots, and mind you don't wyste them.
"Your mouth is full of sounds and fury, but till you tell us more you'll have told us nothing." The face of Thirteen grew darker still, and for a moment he seemed to meditate an angry retort; but he thought better of it, contenting himself with an impatient movement and a mutter: "All in good time; Number One is not here yet." "W'y wyste time w'itin' for 'im?" demanded the Englishman.
"'Ain't it a 'eavenly night?" came from the short figure, who leaned against the tall one affectionately. "An' me got to go in. A crooil shyme, I call it. 'Ain't it, deer? Leggo me wyste, there's a love. You've no notion 'ow I shall cop it for bein' lyte." He sportively declined to release her. There was the sound of a soft slap, followed by the smack of a kiss. She was very angry.
She pushed him out of the crowd, slapping a lad in the face who had jostled him and said, "Gawblimey, look at Percy!" and when she had got him away from them, she told him again to 'op it. "Thank you!..." he began. "Don't you wyste no time, mister, but 'op it quick," she interrupted, giving him a push forward. "But I don't know where I am," he replied.
"Noo, if there wes nae objection in order, aifter ye hed settled in the pulpit, an' hed yir first snuff, ye micht say, 'Officer, shut the door. Then a' wud close the kirk door deleeberately in sicht o' the hale congregation an' come back tae ma place, an' Peter Rattray himsel' wudna daur tae show his face aifter that. Ye hae the voice an' the manner, Doctor, an' it's no richt tae wyste them."
Word Of The Day