Suppose, I answered, that a just and good man in the course of a narration comes on some saying or action of another good man,-- I should imagine that he will like to personate him, and will not be ashamed of this sort
of imitation: he will be most ready to play the part of the good man when he is acting firmly and wisely; in a less degree when he is overtaken by illness or love or drink, or has met with any other disaster.
As I stood alone in the hall, without a sound of any sort
, Rose appeared before me.
His companion only gave a sort of a little sigh and was silent for a moment, as if ruminating, then he merely said, "The poor fellow is quite gone," and added some scientific terms in which his auditor once more found himself out of his depth.
Then, as if sincerely repentant of his nonchalance, he added, with a sort of enthusiasm:
As if fired by his own words, he took a sort of leap at the ledges of the rock above him, and scaled them with a sudden agility in startling contrast to his general lassitude.
At the corner stood a sort of decayed inn with the dingy sign of The Grapes.
Out of all this rather mysterious conversation there did emerge at last a sort of admission that one particular motor car, of a given description, had stopped before the inn about an hour before, and that an elderly man had alighted, requiring some mechanical assistance.
I will give the afternoon to that sort
of people," he said.
Why, Mr Moore," he begins, sort
of soothing; when the small brother, who's been staring at Jerry, chips in.
You know the sort of thing: `Press a Button--A Butler who Never Drinks.
Even as he spoke, there was a sort of steely shriek in the street outside, and a small motor, driven at devilish speed, shot up to the door of the shop and stuck there.
The porter of the flats swears that no suspicious characters have been seen, and here he has pasted up a sort of dado on a public shop window, while the people in the shop--"
Perhaps you might care to come with me; I can go to my rooms and sort out these queer Welkin documents, while you run round and get your friend the detective.
Both men, with a queer kind of impromptu fairness, took the same sort of formal farewell of the lady, and both jumped into the brisk little car.
The only thing I remember was a sort
of green light--very clouded, very dim--which came up from the well.