Everybody knows this and acts accordingly; but when you say it, it sounds bad and bold, and makes you uncomfortable to hear it, because the puritan blood is still undertowing in your veins.
The removal of the heated air, steam, stive, and flour from the millstones, is a proposition which does not appear to be more than sufficiently well understood.
[…] Fanny, forgetful of her young-ladyism and her sixteen years, had boxed Tom's ears, and Tom, resenting the insult, had forcibly seated her in the coal-hod, where he held her with one hand while he returned the compliment with the other.
You got it made now, Parson, Feeney informed him. You know that? Made in the shade. . . . You lucky bastard,
You got it made now, Parson,
You know that? Made in the shade. . . . You lucky bastard,
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