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Updated: June 14, 2025
To me it seemed that all these astute potentates knew their Dawson very thoroughly, and lubricated, as it were, with judicious flattery the machinery of his energies. I could not but admire Dawson's truly royal faculty for absorbing butter.
Considering the circumstances, however, it was worth trying; she chose Dawson, focusing her Talent on him with what felt like the right degree of intensity to knock him out for roughly an hour. To her surprise and satisfaction, her attack was just as effective and noticeably less difficult than in her practice sessions; she sensed the flash of Dawson's pain, then his loss of consciousness.
Many of the men wished to accompany me; and Lord Chester, who had at last recovered from his stupor, insisted upon heading the search. We set off, to the number of fourteen, and soon arrived at Dawson's house: the light in the upper room was still burning. We rang, and after a brief pause, Thornton himself opened the door to us. He looked pale and agitated.
A dozen little trifles testified to Dawson's superficiality, and Peggy had been mistress of a big paddock too long to let this popinjay lord it over one whom he sized up as "nothin' but a school girl." Consequently, her reply to his warning slightly upset his equanimity. "You need not be alarmed, Dawson, but if Lady Belle turns fractious I'll abide the consequences."
My grandmother's pearls went three times round my neck before they fell loosely on my bodice. When I looked at my reflection in the long mirror I confess my splendour rather dazzled me. If only it had been for Anthony Cardew's eyes! But I hated that I should appear so fine to do honour to the Dawsons, and I dreaded more than ever meeting Richard Dawson's insolent gaze.
Mark Twain. Tell the truth or trump but get the trick. Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar The scene of this chronicle is the town of Dawson's Landing, on the Missouri side of the Mississippi, half a day's journey, per steamboat, below St. Louis.
Benbow, led unwittingly to Dawson's as a lamb to the slaughter-house later to flee, crying, back to her hearth and home, her life smashed to the tiniest pieces and no brain nor strength to put it together again.
"Johnnie," she whispered again, "the that there thing they ride in the otty-mobile hit broke down, and Zack was over to Pres Blevin's blacksmith shop a-he'pin' 'em work on it all day yesterday. You know Pres he married Lura Dawson's aunt. Neither Himes nor Buckheath could git it to move, but by night they had it a-runnin' or so hit would run.
There was a sound of many feet ploughing in the mud, and a suppressed voice gave a short order. The woman stopped and caught Dawson's arm. "Hush!" she whispered. "It is the police. They have come for the men. They will be on both sides of us. Wait and listen." Dawson stood rigid, his heart thumping. The darkness seemed to surge around him with menaces and dangers.
See the light in that cabin? An' in that one over there? An' hear that door slam? Oh, sure Dawson's asleep. Them lights? Just buryin' their dead. They ain't stampedin', betcher life they ain't."
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