Sandra studied Doc's face carefully through her glasses. He looked terribly tired now, almost a death's head. Something tightened in her chest and she looked away quickly.
“No German sent that compliment to us,” asserted Jack, who had a high opinion of the Kaiser’s artillerymen, from having seen some remarkable results of their gunfire on the western front.
"Well ... not much, sir. He suddenly panicked. We don't know why; but we thought we'd better pull back and let him recover for a while."
For all these reasons I was the more anxious to learn for myself what these people were like. I wanted to find out precisely in what this inferiority of the southern Italian consisted, because I knew that these people were very largely descended from the ancient Greeks, who, by
“A nurse! I’ve a call here for a nurse. Must be first-class. Consumtive. Wages a week.”
“Why did you not say all this when you were arrested?”
Whut keer I fer de cost?
"To praise a man for what he does not possess is to make him appear foolish," Retief said. "These are the lands of the Boyars. But enough of these pleasantries. We seek audience with your ruler."
This young girl, whose name was Grace Be-dell, told Mr. Lin-coln how old she was, and that she thought he would look bet-ter, and so that scores more folks would like him, if he “would let his whis-kers grow.” She said, too, that she liked the “rail fence, in the pic-ture, a-round that cab-in that he helped his fa-ther make.” Then she asked that if he were too bus-y to an-swer her let-ter that he would let his own lit-tle girl re-ply for him.
"But he's still wrong. No rational being is supposed ever to see me face to face. But you do."
“Dat’s whut I thout, suh,” he continued, “but bless yo’ soul, honey, my wife hadn’t bin dead er week befo’ I got up one mornin’ an’ all onbeknownst to myself I foun’ myself blackin’ my shoes! Cudn’t hep it to sabe my life, suh—jes’ had to do it. De naixt day, suh, ’tirely unbeknownst to de state ob my naturality, I kotch myself in de act ob puttin’ h’ar-oil on my hair, cinnermun-draps on my handkerchief, an’ pullin’ off de eel-skin gyarters I dun bin wearin’ forty years fur de rumertizn. No mo’ rumertiz fur me; er man nurver hes rumertizn arter his wife dies—least-wise,” he whispered, knowingly, “not twell he marries erggin an’ den he hes it so bad he can’t cut stove-wood fur her,” he laughed.
He darted a suspicious glance at her. "That is not your kind of question," he said sternly. "Exactly what have you been up to?"
"Best platoon?"详情 ➢
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