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Updated: June 9, 2025
There was a peculiar cadence in her voice, a rich depth, unusual in young women. There was not a shrill nor common strain in it. That "high" look Joyce had noted went with high thoughts, and a voice undertoned by a beautiful soul. Dan felt this without thinking it out in so many words. Another idea began to force its way into his moody brain.
"This is killing me!" she moaned. "Oh, it is! it is! I can't stand it much longer." "Courage, Miss Fluette," I undertoned assuasively. "Everything is working for the best, believe me." Ah, but was it? I could not say the words with much assurance. They drove away, two sad, harassed women.
This sally was received with a subdued laugh, and with marks of such decided approval, that Grummidge was carried with the current at all events, he held his tongue after that. An earnest undertoned discussion followed, and it was finally arranged that Big Swinton should sound Master Trench about the propriety of running to Newfoundland instead of returning on their track to Norway.
From the steady, comfortable purr which had undertoned all sounds in the tiny glen, the machine burst at once into a deep-toned roar. The narrow depression vibrated with its joyous clamour. Suddenly, above the sound, Johnnie was aware of a distant hail, which finally resolved itself into words. "Hi! Hoo ee! You let that car alone, whoever you are."
His hair was brown, slightly streaked with gray, his eyes a soft, dark hazel, forehead square, eye-brows straight, nose of no very marked character, and mouth moderately full, with a tendency to twitch a little at the corners. His voice was undertoned, but mellow and agreeable. Mrs. Eunice Billings, of nearly equal age, was a good specimen of the wide-awake New-England woman.
"Ye'd better not, kid," he muttered darkly, "if ye don't want to git yerself an' the other fellow into trouble." "Then ye'd best promise 'bout the kisses," returned Tess, decidedly. "I'd kiss ye now fer a two cent piece," he undertoned passionately, but Daddy Skinner had his hand on the other man's arm before he could move toward the cot.
He passed unnoticed, except by the filthy little Arab bootblacks who swarmed about him, trotting, capering, yelping cheerfully: "Mista Ferguson! polish, finish! can-can see nice Frencha girl Mista McKenzie, Scotcha fella from Dublin smotta picture polish, finish!" undertoned by a squabbling chorus. But presently, studying his face, they cried in a loud voice, "Nix!
"But it's my opinion," suggested Little Stubbs, "that the skipper's opinion on that point will have to be found out first, Swinton, for it's of more importance than yours. You ain't skipper yet, you know." "That's so, Stubbs," said Squill, with a nod. "Let your tongues lie still," retorted Swinton, in an undertoned growl.
His hair was brown, slightly streaked with gray, his eyes a soft, dark hazel, forehead square, eyebrows straight, nose of no very marked character, and a mouth moderately full, with a tendency to twitch a little at the corners. His voice was undertoned, but mellow and agreeable. Mrs. Eunice Billings, of nearly equal age, was a good specimen of the wide-awake New-England woman.
"I wonder how that got through the custom house?" was Eph Somers's next undertoned question. "Ah, good morning, gentlemen," greeted the stranger, coming toward them, all smiles and bows. "Av I have not med ze mistake, zen I am address ze torpedo boys." "Right-o," drawled Eph. "Regular human torpedoes, as touchy as gun-cotton. Why, I am due to explode this moment!"
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