cleaning up so well (jones_casey) wrote,
cleaning up so well

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s. [se levant] la tete d'iokanaan.
h1. ah! c'est bien dit, ma fille.
h2. non, non.
h1. c'est bien dit, ma fille.
h2. non, non, salome. vous ne me demandez pas cela. n'ecoutez pas votre mere. elle vous donne toujours de mauvais conseils. il ne faut pas l'ecouter.
s. je n'ecoute pas ma mere. c'est pour mon propre plaisir que je demande la tete d'iokanaan dans un bassin d'argent. vous avez jure, herode. n'oubliez pas que vous avez jure.

after watching him at work i concluded, rightly, that he would do a lot better job than i.

'i begin to think i shall have strange experiences,' said i.

'i would not romance, if i were you,' replied the doctor; 'you will
find, i fear, a very grovelling and commonplace reality. felipe,
for instance, i have seen. and what am i to say? he is very
rustic, very cunning, very loutish, and, i should say, an innocent;
the others are probably to match. no, no, senor commandante, you
must seek congenial society among the great sights of our
mountains; and in these at least, if you are at all a lover of the
works of nature, i promise you will not be disappointed.'

'really any one would take us (any one that did not know us) for the most unpleasant people!' (hiawatha seemed to think so, seemed to think it not unlikely).

'it is not my business to settle such questions; i only mean to say that people like mavra are not uncommon. there is no need to look far; two months ago a man called byelikov, a colleague of mine, the greek master, died in our town. you have heard of him, no doubt. he was remarkable for always wearing goloshes and a warm wadded coat, and carrying an umbrella even in the very finest weather. and his umbrella was in a case, and his watch was in a case made of grey chamois leather, and when he took out his penknife to sharpen his pencil, his penknife, too, was in a little case; and his face seemed to be in a case too, because he always hid it in his turned-up collar.'

it was clumsily said, perhaps; for she shuddered and looked at me with a ghastly smile. but she persuaded her sister to take something; and she took something on her own plate and raised her fork to her lips. but in a moment she laid it down again.

'i cannot,' she murmured. 'i cannot swallow. oh, my god, at this moment they may be taking him.'

i thought that she was about to burst into a passion of tears, and i repented that i had induced her to descend. but her self-control was not yet exhausted. by an effort, painful to see, she recovered her composure. she took up her fork, and ate a few mouthfuls. then she looked at me with a fierce under-look.
Tags: bricolage

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