GTOBase

GTOBase Evidently I had not yet been able to atone for my misdeeds; my penance Suddenly Bob remembered that he had left his job in the office without anybody’s authority. The excitement had made him forget that he had a job. Now, when everything was quiet, the realization that probably he had been missed came to him and he started to make tracks in the general direction of the office. He had not gone far, however, when he heard a familiar voice hail him from behind. It was Mr. Whitney, so he slowed up and turned.,“Well, now, is that so? It sounds to me like a furrin word,” returned Mrs. Wopp, who admired Mrs. Mifsud’s polished utterances, while by no means undervaluing her own rhetorical gifts.,"What, the black witch? Bah! She is only a servant.","So far as I can remember, I left by my bedroom window. I had only to step out through it like a door, as it is a French window and opens onto the lawn.","David says they're slushy," pursued Patricia, meditating. "But he's only a boy."，"Well said, Miss, well said!" cried Miss Proudfoot, who was a very good hand at whist and very quarrelsome over the game.，Let your answer be a kiss!"，"Yes, let us," says Mona, gayly."You don't know what you are talking about," says Doatie, vehemently. "Every one of those interminable half-hours will be a year off your life. Mr. Boer is obnoxious, but Florence is simply insupportable. Wait till she begins about the choir, and those hateful school-children, and the parish subsidies; then you perhaps will learn wisdom, and grow headaches if you have them not. Violet, what is it Jack calls Mr. Boer?"

She made a quaint picture curled in a big chair under the window, where a lifted corner of the curtain gave light to the book, but left the rest of the room dark. It pleased her to play teacher. She asked Billy numberless questions, coaxed him to explain what she did not understand. And he soon learned that one must know a thing very well before he can tell it. He dictated some of the written work, and she transcribed it in her prim little script.,Mr Lawrence rushed back to his cabin, whence he took from a shelf a telescope of uncommon power for those times, the gift of no less a man than Captain Acton after intelligence had been brought to him of a particular heroic piece of behaviour on the part of Mr Lawrence. With this telescope he sprang on to the deck, and levelling it at the sea over the lee bow, viewed in the lenses the picture of a large man-of-war with two white bands broken by gun-ports. She was far away, yet not so distant but that a[Pg 292] hand's breadth of her black side could be seen shivering in mirage betwixt the lower white band and the wool-white tremble of water running aft. All the men of the Minorca were on deck at work here and there. They looked at Mr Lawrence as with levelled telescope he stood on the quarterdeck viewing the distant battleship. They all belonged to Old Harbour Town; all had heard of him, and a few knew him by sight. They were members of a group of inhabitants who felt that the presence amongst them of a man whose sea story though brief was brilliant did them and Old Harbour Town honour, and they regarded him as he stood with the glass at his eye, as though they should say, "Yon's a man-o'-war, and she may be a Johnny; but there's the Jack who will know what to do with her." And, may be, some of those who thus reflected cast their eyes upon the figure of Mr Eagle, who stood near enough to the Captain to enable the sight to master the details of a very striking contrast.,It was as if some tremendous force had taken possession of his tired, stricken body, and carried it on with no volition of his own. Afterward he remembered, understood; knew it was his own will that rose and ruled every bodily faculty; knew, and was glad, for that day he stepped into a realm of power he should never lose as long as he lived.,Without further delay off he started on the road to Kingthorpe, but his thoughts were still busy.,He laughed coarsely. “George Smith’s kid, all right. You’ve got the same high way with you.”,All the men who write me letters seem to get themselves wound up into a sky rocket and then let themselves explode in the last paragraph, and it always upsets my nerves. I was just about to begin to cry again over the last words of the judge, when the only bright spot in the day so far suddenly happened. Pet Buford ran in with the pinkest cheeks and the brightest eyes I had seen since I looked in the mirror the night of the dance. She was in an awful hurry.,"We all need you, Mary," spoke her husband quickly. "Didn't I tell you that when I persuaded you to come? I need you; Billy needs you.","Is he tol'able well-to-do?" Mrs. Keeler asked.,Just as Mona crosses the threshold, a man, stepping from among the group that lies in shadow, approaching the stretcher, puts forth his hand, as though he would lift the sheet and look upon what it so carefully conceals. But the woman, springing like a tigress to her feet, turns upon him, and waves him back with an imperious gesture.,And my day has no morning.',CHAPTER IV THE LABYRINTH,"No. It will not worry me. Let us have our dance by all means," says Nicholas, recklessly. "Why should we cave in, in such hot haste? It will give us all something to think about. Why not get up tableaux? Our last were rather a success. And to represent Nero fiddling, whilst Rome was on fire, would be a very appropriate one for the present occasion.".