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时间：2020-11-25 16:34:49 作者：三国杀 浏览量：47736
yet I often thought him an idiot myself, and bad as my own poker was, I knew enough of the game to judge that his—when he wasn’t attending—fully justified such an outburst from his wife. Why her sally disturbed me I couldn’t have said; nor why, when it was greeted by a shrill guffaw from her “latest,” young Bolton Byrne, I itched to cuff the little bounder; nor why, when Hayley Delane, on whom banter always dawned slowly but certainly, at length gave forth his low rich gurgle of appreciation—why then, most of all, I wanted to blot the whole scene from my memory. Why?
"A pretty Christian you are to be going to Rome and laughing at a man as old as my grandfather!" I admonished him, when I had finished.
So the mother held out her hand, and the other drew her down a flight of stone steps, and then they came to a massive closed door, and the old woman unlocked it and bade her enter. But the mother was afraid, and wept.
Bela Grabo was suffering acute tortures. He had a winning attack, he knew it. The Machine was counter-attacking, but unstrategically, desperately, in the style of a Frank Marshall complicating the issue and hoping for a swindle. All Grabo had to do, he knew, was keep his head and not blunder—not throw away a queen, say, as he had to old Vanderhoef at Brussels, or overlook a mate in two, as he had against Sherevsky at Tel Aviv. The memory of those unutterably black moments and a dozen more like them returned to haunt him. Never if he lived a thousand years would he be free of them.
1.“That was what we feared,” said Jack, “and it bothered us to know what we ought to do. Circumstances settled it for us. You see, he was shut up below, with all that explosive stuff. If he believed we meant to hand him over to the British the chances were that, in a fit of desperation, he might have blown the boat up, and all of us would have perished with her.”
after years which are as nothing in her mind, a return, an awakening, a resurrection to life and the most perfect felicity, so she thought—poor thing, poor thing!—and when she got here, to East Harrowby, she was so overcome with the happiness in store for them, that she felt her heart would burst if she saw him too suddenly—she wandered about, waiting until dusk to go to his house, and to throw herself in her husband's arms—"