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" This was no more than a just tribute to my worthy friend and companion ," Flinders wrote, " for the extreme dangers and fatigues he had undergone, in first entering it in a whaleboat, and to the correct judgement he had formed, from various indications, of the existence of a wide opening between Van Diemen's Land and New South Wales.
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was and no
Her blond hair was frowzy, her dress torn in several places, and her shoes were so completely worn out that they were practically no protection.
The coyote was calling again, and he hoped that this time there would be no other sounds to interrupt it.
There was brush, and stands of pine that no grass could grow under, and places so steep that cattle wouldn't stop to graze.
It was, I felt, possible that they were men who, having received no tickets for that day, had remained in the hall, to sleep perhaps, in the corners farthest removed from the counter with its overhead light.
Normally Hague wasted no words, but now he found himself unable to stop their flow although he knew Kodyke was aware of all he said.
Moreover, as long as the weapon was carried openly, the sheriff's office had made no previous issue of it.
Out in the center of the circle the farmer, who was Dan, wasted no time when they came to the line, `` The farmer choose his wife ''.
Mrs. Roebuck thought Johnson was a `` sweet bawh t'lah lahk thet '', but her Herman was getting to be a man, there was no getting around it.
was and more
He was silent a moment, thinking he could use a man this time of year, and if the girl could cook, it would give him more time in the meadows, but he knew nothing about the couple.
Unconcerned, indifferent, unmotivated, the forest was simply there -- fighting man's depredations with more abundant growth and man's follies with its own musical evening laughter.
He could move very quickly, she knew ( although he seldom found occasion to do so ), but he was more wiry than truly strong.
Somehow more terrible than the certainty that he was about to die was the knowledge that Lord would probably not suffer for it: the murder would go unpunished.
Over the rapidly-diminishing outline of a jump seat piled high with luggage Herry's black brushcut was just discernible, near, or enviably near that spot where -- hidden -- more delicately-textured, most beautifully tinted hair must still be streaming back in cool, oh cool wind sweetly perfumed with sagebrush and yucca flowers and engine fumes.
Johnson unwired the right hand door, whose window was, like the left one, merely loosely-taped fragments of glass, and Johnson wadded himself into a narrow seat made still more narrow by three cases of beer.
True, she was my Aunt, married to an Uncle related to me only by marriage, but why she had married a man twice her age, and more, perhaps, I did not know or much care.
Keith Sterling had looked down on the Brahmaputra more times than he could remember, during the war days when he flew over the Hump of the world, thinking it high adventure in those times before man was guiding himself through outer space.
Keith was on his feet because he didn't care at all about life any more: Penny on her feet, proudly, because she cared too much.
He was the lawman who survived more gunfights than any other famous gun-slinging character in the book.
His bold eyes raked the woman, and a perceptive spectator might sense that there was more to their relationship than that of slave to owner.
He bounced exuberantly on the sagging bed and was even more delighted when Madame Lalaurie -- after closing the door -- showed the slave that the bed was designed for something other than slumber.
In every war of the United States since the Civil War the South was more belligerent than the rest of the country.
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