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Updated: September 18, 2025
"I believe you look ten times worse," I said, trying to be cheerful and to do something in the way of retort. "No, no; but seriously, do I look very bad?" "Awfully!" I said. "Oh, I say! Come, now, how do I look?" "Well, there's all the skin off your nose, where you scratched against the rock." "Ye-es," he said, patting his nose tenderly; "but it's scaling over nicely.
Emerson," he said, "that you might be able to favor me with a letter from Carlyle." At the mention of the name Carlyle his eyes lifted, and he asked: "Carlyle, did you say, sir, Carlyle?" "Yes," said the boy, "Thomas Carlyle." "Ye-es," Emerson answered slowly. "To be sure, Carlyle. Yes, he was here this morning. He will be here again to-morrow morning," he added gleefully, almost like a child.
"Oh, ye-es," broke in Carlotta. "Mrs. Mainwaring has the picture of Seer Marcous in her bedroom, and there is the picture of Mrs. Mainwaring in our drawing-room. You have not seen it? But yes. You have not recognised it, Pasquale? Mrs. Mainwaring is so pretty tonight. Much prettier than the photograph. Yes, you are so pretty.
He sat in the chair of wood and leather, and read to the poet several of his own poems in a language in which, when he wrote them, he never dreamed they would ever be printed. He was very quiet. Finally he said: "It seems so odd, so very odd, to hear something you know so well sound so strange." "It's a great compliment, though, isn't it, sir?" asked the boy. "Ye-es," said the poet slowly.
Almost immediately he learned to puff, and in a very short time was rolling thick white clouds from him like a turret-gun in action. Evidently he was proud of his rapid attainments. "Humph! That won't last long," murmured Rooney to his companion. "Isn't it good?" said Kajo to Ippegoo. "Ye-es. O yes. It's good; a-at least, I suppose it is," replied the youth, with modesty.
Grazing contentedly near the porch was his horse and Saint-Prosper's hand now rested on the bridle. "I can't tell how long I was unconscious," said the seemingly hysterical young woman, "but I hurried here as soon as I recovered myself." "Where did it occur? Down the road you came?" "Ye-es." Saint-Prosper vaulted into the saddle. "Tell the manager to see a magistrate," he said.
"Not young Mr. Nicholas? He's at the Bar. We've given 'im briefs." "He'll never set the Thames on fire," said Soames. A smile oozed out on Gradman's face, greasy with countless mutton-chops, the smile of a man who sits all day. "You can't expect it, at his age, Mr. Soames." "Why? What is he? Forty?" "Ye-es, quite a young fellow."
"Forty or fifty nonsenses, my boy!" he said, laughing. "Such serpents as that only exist in books. They rarely exceed twenty feet where they are largest. That fellow would not be fifteen. What do you say will you come?" "Ye-es, uncle," I said hesitatingly, feeling hot and cold by turns. "Why, Nat," he said quietly, "you are afraid!"
"You mean you wish to stay married wiz one man?" "Ye-es," Lucia faltered. "Never no life? Never no fun? Ha! If you was old, fat zen, perhaps. But young, beautiful! For why was you born if you no wish to leeve?" "But I do wish to live!" Lucia cried in desperation; and her hands went out in an attitude of supplication. Lopez appraised her once more.
In truth he did seem better able to take care of himself than most of the men Lorelei had seen, so she said no more. As he throttled himself with his evening tie Bob gasped: "Having a good time?" "Ye-es!"
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