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"Mind, Ipsden, you are a man of property, and there are such things as commissions de lunatico." Lady Bar. "His defense will be that his friends pronounced him insane." Ips. "No; I shall subpoena Talbot's fiddle, cross-examination will get nothing out of that but, do, re, mi, fa." Lady Bar. "Yes, it will; fa, mi, re, do." Tal. "Violin, if you please." Lady Bar. "Ask Fiddle's pardon, directly."
Sound of fiddles is heard in the distance. Tal. "How lucky for you, there are fiddles and tunes, and the natives you are said to favor, why not join them?" Ips. "I dread to encounter another prelude." Hither. "Come, I know you would like it; it is a wedding-party two sea monsters have been united. The sailors and fishermen are all blue cloth and wash-leather gloves." Miss V. "He! he!" Tal.
Twenty-five sluggards, all old offenders, filed into the gymnasium. "Quietly provide yourselves with the requisite dumb-bells; returnin' quietly to your place. Number off from the right, in a low voice. Odd numbers one pace to the front. Even numbers stand fast. Now, leanin' forward from the 'ips, takin' your time from me." The dumb-bells rose and fell, clashed and were returned as one.
He heard a catching in her breath and glanced at her and saw her ips pressed tight and a tear on her cheek. Her face was hot and bright. She was looking straight before her. He could think of nothing to say, and thrust his hands in his pockets and looked away from her intentionally. After a while she began to talk.
Ipsden. "Polkez-vous, madame?" Lady Barb. "Si, je polke, Monsieur le Vicomte." They polked for a second or two. "Well, I dare say I am wrong," cried Lady Barbara, "but I like you better now you are a downright ahem! than when you were only an insipid non-intellectual you are greatly improved." Ips. "In what respects?" Lady Barb.
Three times my missis licked 'er lips afore she could speak. Her face 'ad gone a dirty white colour, and she was leaning forward with her 'ands on her 'ips, trembling all over with temper. "Is my dinner ready?" I ses, easy-like. "'Cos I'm ready for it." "I I wonder I don't tear you limb from limb," she ses, catching her breath. "Wot's the matter?" I ses.
Don't look like a sailor, though. Is 'e a sailor?" "No," replied the interpreter sharply. "Well, well, no offence meant," said Lancey, buttoning his shirt. "If you don't feel commoonicative I won't trouble you, no more than to thank 'ee for the shirt an' trousers, which the latter bein' dry is a blessin', though they air a trifle short in the legs an' wide in the 'ips."
Three times my missis licked 'er lips afore she could speak. Her face 'ad gone a dirty white colour, and she was leaning forward with her 'ands on her 'ips, trembling all over with temper. "Is my dinner ready?" I ses, easy-like. "'Cos I'm ready for it." "I I wonder I don't tear you limb from limb," she ses, catching her breath. "Wot's the matter?" I ses.
"Your best course will be to travel through Saint Poelten and Ips, cross the river at once, and go over the mountains by the road through Freystadt to Budweis. It is by far the most level road from here, though a good deal longer than the one through Horn.
She stood blocking up the doorway with her 'ands on her 'ips, while I explained, with Kumbo still 'anging on my arm and a crowd collecting behind, and the more I explained, the more I could see she didn't believe a word of it. She never 'as believed it. I sent for Mr.
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