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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Miss Cragiemuir was attached to her scholars, an intelligent lot of men, speaking English fairly well, and at times quite electrifying her by their naïve observations on men and things. But Ah Moy, the ugly fellow at the end of the form, was her especial pride.
The words irritated Hurstwood greatly. Hot blood poured into his brain. Many thoughts formulated themselves. He was no thief. He didn't want the money. If he could only explain to Fitzgerald and Moy, maybe it would be all right again. "See here," he said, "there's no use my talking about this at all. I respect your power all right, but I'll have to deal with the people who know."
"My dear Jenny, I have only known it a week, and I have not been able to find out where Mr. Moy is." "What, to have him taken up?" "Taken up, no; I don't imagine he could be prosecuted after this length of time and on this kind of evidence. No, to give him warning." "Warning? To flee away, and never clear Archie! What are you about, Julius?
The two chiefs, Moy and Commoro, feeling themselves compromised by having brought the man into such danger unwittingly, threw themselves before him, and declared that no harm should befall him, as he belonged to them. Tearing them away by the combined force of many men, the prisoner was immediately bound, and led forth by his bloodthirsty murderers to death.
"On the night of the beating, Ah Moy did not feel equal to presiding over the tables, so the resort was closed for the first time in many months. Down in the dark sub-cellar he soothed his ruffled feelings with a long, quiet smoke, and meditated upon elaborate though somewhat impracticable schemes of revenge as he lay in his bunk.
Consider me, if you please, as having withdrawn from all further connection with your affairs." Geoffrey looked at him in stolid surprise. "Do you mean to say you're going to leave me in the lurch?" he asked. "I mean to say that I will take no fresh step in any business of yours," answered Mr. Moy, firmly. "As to the future, I have ceased to be your legal adviser.
However, on reviving, he spoke as is thus attested," and he showed Herbert Bowater's slip of paper. "Mr. Charnock," said Mr. Moy, "without the slightest imputation on the intentions of yourself or of young Mr. Bowater, I put it to yourself and Captain Charnock Poynsett, whether you could go before a jury with no fuller attestation than you have in your hand. We know what Mr. Charnock and Mr.
They came to Mongan's palace at Moy Linney, and it was not until they reached the palace that they found they had been away one whole year, for they had thought they were only away one night. They lived then peacefully and lovingly together, and that ends the story, but Bro'tiarna did not know that Mongan was Fionn. The abbot leaned forward. "Was Mongan Fionn?" he asked in a whisper.
I only want to explain how it was I came to go to Craig Fernie at all and I challenge Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn to deny it, if he can." His voice rose at the last words, and his eyes brightened with indignation as he looked at Geoffrey. Mr. Moy appealed to his learned friend.
His property holdings, as yet, were rather small, but his income was pleasing and his position with Fitzgerald and Moy was fixed. Both those gentlemen were on pleasant and rather informal terms with him. The atmosphere which such personalities would create must be apparent to all. It worked out in a thousand little conversations, all of which were of the same calibre.
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