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时间：2021-11-30 14:32:07 作者：Upperground 浏览量：84461
Waring repented his appeal to his child. He repented even the sudden impulse which had induced him to make it. He withdrew his arm from her with a sudden revulsion of feeling, and a recollection that Constance was not emotional, but a young woman of the world, who would understand many things which Frances did not understand. He withdrew his arm, and said somewhat coldly, “Show me what address you have put upon your mother’s letter. You must not make any mistake in that.”
"Oh yes," Sandra assured him, "but there are some other questions I very much want to ask you, Mr. Jandorf."
Time passed. He had the trading-post in a position of defense. He prepared his lunch, and glowered. More time passed. He cooked his dinner, and ate. Afterward he went up on the trading-post roof to smoke and to coddle his anger. He observed the sunset. There was always some haze in the air on Thriddar, and the colorings were very beautiful. He could see the towers of the capital city of the Thrid. He could see a cumbersome but still graceful steam-driven aircraft descend heavily to the field at the city's edge. Later he saw another steam-plane rise slowly but reliably and head away somewhere else. He saw the steam helicopters go skittering above the city's buildings.
I find, as most people do, I have no doubt, that it is very hard to realize the significance of a fact that is stated in mere abstract figures. It is only after I have translated these abstractions into terms of my own experience that I am able to grasp them. That must be my excuse here for what may seem a rather far-fetched comparison.
“My friends, if I were hiding from the police, do you know where I should hide? In a prison!”
He got up, walked the length of the room, and came back, pausing in front of me. “He just vanished. I never even knew his name....
"Piacentelli did a splendid job of teaching you the Standard language," Hartford said. He looked up and down Takeko's trim, just post-adolescent figure in frank appraisal, jealously wondering whether Gabe could have achieved his remarkable pedagogical results by means of the pillow-book method of linguistic instruction so popular with soldiers of occupation in every time and climate. That thought, he rebuked himself, was unworthy of Pia's memory. In any case, his friend had conducted his researches wearing that guarantee of chastity, a safety-suit.
Mrs. Wolley frowned a bit, but Miss Claire ses swately:
Is stopped by the sight of the blue and the buff
"Hold your tongue, you rascal!" bawled the colonel, highly pleased nevertheless. "The infernal free-school system, sir, and the unjustifiable application of steam to machinery, has been the ruin of this country. As I was telling you, though, about Jack Thornton; his land joined mine, and we were at William and Mary together. Well, Jack was as handsome a fellow as ever stepped, and the only man in the county that could beat me after the hounds. He had a very pretty property too, sir, and as likely a lot of negroes as there was in the county, and there was eleven hundred acres in the tract at Northend. By Jove! what jolly bachelor dinners he used to give there! Eh, Bob? I got mighty near being kicked by the madam for a little turn about we had at one of those dinners. That dinner, sir, lasted three days, and I rode my horse up the front stairs into Jack's bedroom. Ah, they were days!"
1.“This old Greek powerboat seems to be making pretty fair time, isn’t it, Amos?”
"Bah—I think Great wants us to get heated up over such minor matters, just as he is happy (and oh so obliging!) when we complain about how the Machine blinks or hums or smells. It keeps our minds off the main business of trying to outguess his programming. Incidentally, that is one thing we decided last night—Sherevsky, Willie Angler, Jandorf, Serek, and myself—that we are all going to have to learn to play the Machine without letting it get on our nerves and without asking to be protected from it. As Willie puts it, 'So suppose it sounds like a boiler factory even—okay, you can think in a boiler factory.' Myself, I am not so sure of that, but his spirit is right."
There cum three yung doods marching down the Avenoo, and as Miss Claire taks me in her arms the bauld yung chaps stud still and looked at us and shmiled. Thin one bint down and keerfully picked up the parrysol and wiped it wid the sleeve of his foine gray coat. As me and Miss Claire extrycate ourselves he offers it to her wid a bow. She toorned red as a peeney and her bloo eyes guv one luk up at the dood, then drapped demoorly: