Explore "Colonel Quaritch, V. C" by H. Rider Haggard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
George sat opposite to him, his hands on his knees, the red nightcap on his head, and a comical expression of astonishment upon his melancholy countenance.
"Well," he said, when Harold had done, "blow me if that ain't a master one. And yet there's folks who say that there ain't no such thing as Providence-not that there's anything prowided yet-p'raps there ain't nawthing there after all."