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"Oh, do you mean it?" said Florence; her face flushed, and then turned pale. She had a wild, wild thought that even if she failed her mother would not turn from her. She had a choking sensation in her throat, which made her feel that even in the moment of absolute defeat the little Mummy's kisses would be supporting, cheering, encouraging. Tears brimmed into her eyes.
"If under the mummy's wrappings there is some flesh and blood?" Then she turned and answered him with passion. "Of course there is," she said. He bent over still nearer. "Just for to-night, shall we not quarrel or spar?" he whispered. "See, I will treat you as a sister and friend. I want to be petted and spoilt I am sad." Tamara, of course, melted at once!
But this resinous matter, which lies in the walls of the spores and sporangia, is a substance not easily altered by air and water, and hence tends to preserve these bodies, just as the bituminized cerecloth preserves an Egyptian mummy; while, on the other hand, the merely woody stem and leaves tend to rot, as fast as the wood of the mummy's coffin has rotted.
He married her when he was quite a boy -abroad somewhere when there seemed no chance of his ever being Lord Buntingford he had two elder brothers who died and she was an art student on her own. An old uncle of Mummy's once told me that when Cousin Philip came back from abroad she died abroad after her death, he seemed altogether changed somehow.
Out of the folds came an arm, a woman's arm, slender, yet rounded, an arm with light bones and fine sinews, clearly an arm and hand that had never known work. Marvin was well aware that a mummy's arm is invariably a black skeleton claw. At this point the old man made a mental note that he was not dead, for he could feel his own breathing.
He is one of those long, live skeletons, common amongst the Somal: his shoulders are parallel with his ears, his ribs are straight as a mummy's, his face has not an ounce of flesh upon it, and his features suggest the idea of some lank bird: we call him Long Guled, to which he replies with the Yemen saying "Length is Honor, even in Wood."
Jan closed the door behind her and stood where she was, saying in the quiet, compelling voice they had both already learned to respect: "It's time for Mummy's sleep, and how can Mummy sleep in such a pandemonium?" Little Fay paused in the very middle of a yell and her face twinkled through the restraining net. "Pandemolium," she echoed, joyously rolling it over on her tongue with obvious gusto.
The colonel was standing in the middle of his parlor, wrapped in a gaudy dressing gown, and in his hand he held my mangled bulletin. Right at that minute I wished I had never heard a telegraph instrument click. "Corporal," said the colonel, "what time did you receive this bulletin?" "About six-fifteen, sir, immediately after reveille," I replied with a face as expressionless as a mummy's.
Cathy was smart enough to watch where he was looking. She was busy tossing stuff out of the bottom drawer of an old chest of drawers. "What do you think you're doing?" Jerry asked her. "Mummy's going to house-clean up here Monday. I'm helping by clearing out drawers." "You mean you're snooping around to see what you can find." Cathy stopped pawing in the drawer.
"But they allus does in my Mummy's 'tories," came the instant protest. "Do they? Well, then I guess these'll have to," the man agreed. "We'll fix it that way." "'Ess. An' then " But the prompting failed in its purpose. "An' then? Why I guess that's just all. You see, when folks get married, and live happy ever after, there's most generally no more story to tell. Is there?" "No."
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