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"Hum-m-m!" muttered Cleek to himself, as this unattractive person passed by. "Not he not by his hand. He never struck the blow too cowardly, too careful. And yet Poor little woman! poor little woman!" And his sympathetic eyes went past the others past Mrs. Brinkworth, sobbing and wringing her hands and calling piteously on the dead to speak and dwelt long and tenderly upon Lady Stavornell.
He was fumbling in his card-case and did not look up until about to hand his card to Moira when his mouth flew half open, the while he stared at her with consummate frankness. The girl's glance met his momentarily, then was lowered modestly; she took the card and carried it to Bryce. "Hum-m-m!" Bryce grunted. "That noisy fellow Ogilvy, eh?" "His clothes are simply wonderful and so is his voice.
"Hum-m-m!" commented Cleek. "That looks as if she had struggled very desperately, and one would hardly expect that from a woman of her advanced years and choked into breathlessness at that. Still, her arms could not have been cut otherwise; arms are not vital parts, and the maddest of assassins would know that.
Ricks knows the story before we have told it. And yet he's complaining about the loss of his punch!" Cappy looked slightly self-conscious; it was plain the compliment pleased him. "Well, Gus, my boy," he answered, "I have lost my punch, though at that I'm not exactly a pork-and-beaner. Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! This must be a hard order to fill.
And there are the Burns people and the Bankers' Association and all. Hum-m-m!" Homer T. Ward considered the matter a few moments, then he laughed. "I'll tell you what we will do, Auntie Sue; we will let Brian Kent pay the reward himself. That would be fair, wouldn't it?" Auntie Sue was sure that Brian would agree that it was a fair enough arrangement; but she did not see how it was to be managed.
He can do too many things to block the delivery of my logs and then dub them acts of God, in order to avoid a judgment against him on suit for non-performance of his hauling contract with this company." "Hum-m-m! Slimy old beggar, isn't he? I dare say he wouldn't hesitate to buy the city council to block you, would he?" "I know he'll lie and steal. I dare say he'd corrupt a public official."
"There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum-m-m! Kettle making play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum! Kettle sticking to him in his own way, no idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp ! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum-m-m! Kettle slow and steady.
And madame has a fancy for wax lights," his gaze travelling upward to the glittering chandelier. "Hum-m-m! How well they know, these women whose beauty is going off, that wax-lights show less of Time's ravages than gas or electricity. Candles in the chandelier; candles in the sconces; candles on the mantelpiece. This room should be very charming when it is lighted at night."
And madame has a fancy for waxlights," his gaze travelling upward to the glittering chandelier. "Hum-m-m! How well they know, these women whose beauty is going off, that waxlights show less of Time's ravages than gas or electricity. Candles in the chandelier; candles in the sconces, candles on the mantelpieces. This room should be very charming when it is lighted at night."
For answer J. Augustus Redell drew from his pocket that morning's paper and pointed to the headline of a front-page story. Cappy adjusted his spectacles and read: Bakers Announce Six-Cent Loaf! "Hum-m-m!" said Cappy. "You bet! And it's a smaller loaf, by the way. Doesn't that argue that there is something doing in wheat, when the price of bread goes to six cents for a half portion?"
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