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At nineteen he had commenced one of those careers attractive and inexplicable to ordinary mortals for whom a single bankruptcy is good as a feast. Already famous for having the only roulette table then to be found in Oxford, he was anticipating his expectations at a dazzling rate. He out-crummed Crum, though of a sanguine and rather beefy type which lacked the latter's fascinating languor.
"Lambert," he said, putting a beefy hand on the shoulder of one of his workers, who happened to be a foreman among the wartfrogs. "Yeah?" asked the amphibian. "Who is the little unicorn? The one I see out there in my fields? I have seen her other times, too." "I know no name for her," sighed the wartfrog. "My boys and I have seen her before, though.
"Whoever compared the most advanced nation to the Aztecs was accurate, except for the fact that they base themselves along a river rather than on a mountain plateau." Plekhanov said, "Similarities to the Egyptians and Sumerians." He looked over his beefy shoulder at the technician who was photographing the areas over which they passed. "How does our geographer progress, Roberts?"
His bilious eyes half closed and his sparse eyebrows drew together in a deep concentration of thought. Then presently his forehead smoothed, and his lashless eyes gleamed wickedly. He rose heavily to his feet and labored to and fro across the floor, with his beefy hands clasped behind his back. "Excellent excellent," he muttered. "The devil could not have designed it better."
He stood glaring at the young man, his prominent eyes projecting, the red capillaries in his beefy face filling. "Whadjawant?" he demanded. "A few words with you, Mr. Hull." Kirby pushed past him into the room, much as an impudent agent does. "Well, I don't aim to have no truck with you at all," blustered the fat man. "You've just naturally wore out yore welcome with me before ever you set down.
He was a short man, of stoutish habit, sloppily dressed, with a derby pulled down over one eye, a cigar-butt protruding arrogantly from beneath a heavy black mustache, beefy cheeks, and thick-soled boots dully polished. At sight of him the thief was conscious of an inward tremor, followed by a thrill of excitement like a wave of heat sweeping through his being.
The young girls were remarkable for weight and solidity of figure, ugliness of face, and sweetness of voice. The clear, ringing tones, with a bell-like purity and delicious timbre, issued without effort from between their thick, beefy lips, and there was such a contrast between sound and substance, that they attracted my attention more than I should have thought possible.
He was a big, beefy chap, weighing fifty pounds heavier than Drew, despite the latter's bone and muscle. No man, no matter how well he can spar, can afford to give away fifty pounds in a rough and tumble fight and expect not to suffer for it. The fellow put up a good defense, and Drew suddenly became aware that he himself was at a terrible disadvantage.
"You'd better loosen up," he warned, "it's all right to protect a friend, but it can't be done in a case of this sort. You as a lawyer ought to know that. It can't be done." "Yes, I know, I know. But I want to tell you again that you 're dead wrong about this. You haven't guessed right, Beefy." "That's for others to decide," he returned somewhat sharply. "It 's up to you to tell what you know."
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