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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Gun," Trigger explained unnecessarily. The Ermetyne's face had turned white with shock. She flicked a glance down at the man, then looked back at Trigger. "There're guns on me too, I imagine," Trigger said. "But this one goes off very easily, First Lady! It would take hardly any jolt at all." Lyad nodded slightly. "They're no fools! They won't risk shooting. Don't worry."
"I'd tackle him now," volunteered the youth. "He may go 'way." Hurstwood did so. "Isn't there some place I can stay around here to-night?" he inquired. "If I have to go back to New York, I'm afraid I won't" "There're some cots upstairs," interrupted the man, "if you want one of them." "That'll do," he assented.
"A baby snake," she exclaimed delightedly. "I wonder if there're any more!" Then she poked farther back under the stone, but no more appeared. It was probably the only child in its family, thought Arethusa. It was rather late for baby snakes. She straightened up once more and resumed her absent-minded switching at the water.
The game's a hard one for them, 'cause there're so many others in the field. It ain't always a complexion; sometimes it's a head of hair, or eyes, but whatever it is, competition's keen. I leave it to you, Mr.
"There're lots would give their ears to be in your shoes." Carrie looked out again at the passing crowd. "I don't know," she said. Unconsciously her idle hands were beginning to weary. The gloomy Hurstwood, sitting in his cheap hotel, where he had taken refuge with seventy dollars the price of his furniture-between him and nothing, saw a hot summer out and a cool fall in, reading.
"It's too bad if you don't play. There're so many bridge parties given here. And," she added, "Mr. Bennet plays a beautiful game." Arethusa decided that Miss Warren was not nearly so pretty as she had at first considered her. At this critical juncture, George made his entrance with the tea-tray. Arethusa remembered she was a hostess and had a guest.
His face brightened, and she saw that her words had brought a touching wistfulness into his eyes. "Well, if you'd let me come and talk to you sometimes" he answered shyly. "There're a lot of things I'd like to talk to you about things I don't know, things I do know, and things I half know."
That sounds like the old crew! and the captain came up, on hearing the song, and said to the passenger, within hearing of the man at the wheel, ``That sounds like a lively crew. They'll have their song so long as there're enough left for a chorus!
From Leicesterburg a stanch Union man had gone to the convention; and the Major still resented the selection of his neighbours as bitterly as if it were an affront to aspirations of his own. "Dick Powell! Pooh! he's another Peyton Ambler," he remarked testily, "and on my word there're too many of his kind too many of his kind. What we lack, sir, is men of spirit."
She was scared, of course, but taking the situation very well. Gefty said carefully, "There're a number of possibilities. It's obvious that the Queen has been knocked out of normspace, and it may take some time to find out how to get her back there. But the main thing is that the ship's intact. So far, it doesn't look too bad." Miss Ruse seemed somewhat reassured.
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