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"Anse!" she snorted. "Who's talkin' about Anse? It's Croaker I mean. Look here what that darlin' crow brought me jest a few minutes ago." For half an hour they groped their way forward, no further words passing between them. The heavy roar of the rain on the tree tops made conversation next to impossible. The darkness was so dense they were forced to proceed slowly and pause for breath after bumping violently against a tree or sapling. They had been striving for what seemed to both to be a long, long time to find the clearing when Billy paused in his tracks and spoke: "It's no use, Maurice. We're lost." Mrs. Keeler edged forward distrustfully. "What's that he says he's goin' to do in two weeks?" she asked, suspicion in her tones. "Cause if you think, young man, you be goin' to go in swimmin' ag'in, inside two weeks—" she pointedly addressed Maurice, "you got another think comin'. I'm goin' to see that you don't suffer no re-lapse.".
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Conrad
"Not a bit. I'll run in to his dock tonight, an' tell him." "'If you'll promise me you'll stay away from my quail an' partridge I'll catch 'em fer nuthin,' I told him. 'Only,' I says, 'remember, I do what I please with 'em, after I get 'em.' He looked at me as though he'd like to choke me, but he said all right, he'd leave my birds alone. Maurice grimaced as he licked the bit of pulp from the knife blade. "'Course we both know this danged thing is pisin," he said, uncertainly. "Maybe we're fools, Bill?" The Admiral might have been observed to be calculating by the movement of his lips. "It will be a run, then," said he, "of about forty days.".
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