Augustus gave up and sat down beside the dead man. “I can’t do this today, Deets,” he said. “Somebody else will have to do it if it gets done.” Call also knelt down by Deets’s body. He could not get over his surprise. Though he had seen hundreds of surprising things in battle, this was the most shocking. An Indian boy who probably hadn’t been fifteen years old had run up toDeets and killed him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I was never so married but what I could have managed a friend,” she said. “I want you to look at Bob before you go. The poor man’s laid up there for two months, wasting away.” The anger had died out of her eyes. She came and sat down in a chair, looking at him in the intent way she had, as if reading in his face the events of the fifteen years he had spent away from her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Where have you been for the last fifteen years?” she asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“No,” Cholo said. “She is better.” “Bob taught me,” Clara said. “We didn’t have any help when we first came here. I wasn’t strong enough to hold the horses so I got stuck with the messier job.” They gelded fifteen young horses and left them in the pen where they could be watched. July had stopped feeling weak, but even so it was a wonder to him how hard Clara and the old man worked. They didn’t stop to rest until the job was done, by which time they were all soaked with sweat. Clara splashed water out of the horse trough to wash her hands and forearms, and immediately started for the house.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Clara had bought the piano with money saved all those years from the sale of her parents’ little business in Texas. She had never let Bob use the money—another bone of contention between them. She wanted it for her children, so when the time came they could be sent away to school and not have to spend their whole youth in such a raw, lonely place. The first of the money she spent was on the two-story frame house they had built three years before, after nearly fifteen years of life in the sod house Bob had dug for her on a slope above the Platte. Clara had always hated the sod house—hated the dirt that seeped down on her bedclothes, year after year. It was dust that caused her firstborn, Jim, to cough virtually from his birth until he died a year later. In the mornings Clara would walk down and wash her hair in the icy waters of the Platte, and yet by supper time, if she happened to scratch her head, her fingernails would fill with dirt that had seeped down during the day. For some reason, no matter where she moved her bed, the roof would trickle dirt right onto it. She tacked muslin, and finally canvas, on the ceiling over the bed but nothing stopped the dirt for long. It sifted through. It seemed to her that all her children had been conceived in dust clouds, dust rising from the bedclothes or sifting down from the ceiling. Centipedes and other bugs loved the roof; day after day they crawled down the walls, to end up in her stewpots or her skillets or the trunks where she stored her clothes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

It was a poor set of choices, it seemed to him, but when the Suggs brothers rode off he followed, and in fifteen minutes was across the Red River. Once he looked back and could still see the wagons grouped around the little store. He remembered the girl’s last smile—yet he had killed a man before he had even seen her smile. The nesters made no pursuit.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

At close range she looked younger, perhaps only fifteen or sixteen. Probably she had scarcely even had beaux, or if she had, they would only have been farm boys with no knowledge of the world. She had a curling upper lip, which he liked—it indicated she had some spirit. If she had been a whore, he would have contracted with her for a week, just on the strength of that lip and the curve of her bosom. But she was just a barefoot girl sitting on a wagon, with dust on her bare feet.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“A thousand miles?” Pea said. “We’ll all get old and grow beards before we get that far.” Jasper pointed out to him that at an average of fifteen miles a day it would only take them about two months to get a thousand miles. Thinking of it in terms of months proved more comforting than thinking of it in terms of miles, so Pea tried that for a while.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

He tried to swallow his regrets and concentrate on finding her: after all, it had happened, and why he had let it no longer particularly mattered. Blue Duck was a name from their past. Having him show up in their midst fifteen years later had thrown his reasoning off.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

But he was forced to wait, as the old man scratched around in piles of dusty papers and looked in fifteen or twenty pigeonholes. “Dern,” the old man said. “I remember you having a letter. I hope some fool ain’t thrown it away by mistake.” Three cowboys came in, all with letters they had written to their sisters or sweethearts, and all of them had to stand there waiting while the old man continued his search. July’s heart began to sink. Probably the old man had a poor memory, and if there was a letter it was for somebody else.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

And yet, Call remembered, that very day he had seen Gus McCrae cry over a woman who had been gone fifteen years and
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“How come you to follow?” Roscoe asked. It was the first good look he had had at her—she seemed not more than fourteen or fifteen.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I got a bottle in my bag,” Roscoe said. “You’re welcome to share it.” He assumed that such an offer would assure him a place at the table, but the assumption was wrong. The old man took the whiskey bottle when he offered it, and then sat right on the stump and drank nearly all of it. Then he got up without a word and disappeared into the dark cabin. He did not reappear. Roscoe sat on the stump—the only place there was to sit—and the darkness got deeper and deeper until he could barely see the cabin fifteen feet away. Evidently the old man and the girl had no light, for the cabin was pitch-dark.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Elmira smiled to herself, remembering some of the funny things Dee did. They had known one another for nearly fifteen years, since she had found herself stranded, as a girl, way up in Kansas. It hadn’t been all Dee, of course; there had been plenty of others. Some had lasted only a few minutes, some a week or two or a month, but somehow she and Dee always found themselves back together. It irritated her that he had been content just to pull his mustache and head for the north without her. He seemed to think it would be easy for her to be respectable. Of course, it was her fault for picking July. She hadn’t expected his politeness to irritate her so much.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

When he got within fifteen miles of Lonesome Dove he cut west, thinking they would be holding the herd in that direction. He rode around the southern edge of the bad brush country and struck the trail of the horses. They had beengoing back south, over their own tracks, which was curious. Gus had taken them back to town. Probably he had a reason, but it was not one Call could guess, so he loped on home.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

It was Pea’s one close exposure to an aspect of womankind that Gus was always talking about—their penchant for flyingdirectly in the face of reason. Mary was as wet on the top as on the bottom, and the flapping sheet had knocked one of the combs out of her hair, causing it to come loose. The wash was as wet as it had been before she hung it up in the first place, and yet she wasn’t quitting. She was taking clothes off the line that would just have to be hung back on in fifteen minutes, and Pea was helping her do it as if it all made some sense. While he was steadying the clothesline he happened to notice something that gave him almost as hard a jolt as the bolt of lightning that killed Josh Cole: the clothes he had rescued were undergarments—white bloomers of the sort that it was obvious Mary was wearing beneath the skirt that was so wet against her legs. Pea was so shocked that he almost dropped the underpants back in the mud. She was bound to think it bold that he would pick up her undergarments like that—yet she was determined to have the sheets off the line and all he could do was stand there numb with embarrassment. It was a blessing that rain soon began to pour off his hat brim in streams right in front of his face, making a little waterfall for him to hide behind until the ordeal ended. With the water running off his hat he only caught blurred glimpses of what was going on—he could not judge to what extent Mary had been shocked by his helpful but thoughtless act.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Deets’s pants are a sight, ain’t they,” he said mildly. “Seems to me he used to dress better.” Augustus chuckled. “He used to dress worse,” he said. “Why, he had that sheepskin coat for fifteen years. You couldn’t get in five feet of him without the lice jumping on you. It was because of that coat that we made him sleep in the barn. I ain’t finicky except when it comes to lice.” “What happened to it?” Jake asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I hardly thought to find you boys still here,” he said. “I thought you’d have some big ranch somewhere by now. This town was a two-bit town when we came here and it looks to me like it’s lost about fifteen cents since then. Who’s left that we all know?” “Xavier and Lippy,” Augustus said. “Therese got kilt, thank God. A few of the boys are left but I forget who. Tom Bynum’s left.” “He would be,” Jake said. “The Lord looks after fools like Tom.” “What do you hear of Clara?” Augustus asked. “I suppose since you traveled the world you’ve been to see her. Dropped in for supper, innocent-like, I guess.” Call stood up to go. He had heard enough to know why Jake had come back, and didn’t intend to waste the day listening to him jaw about his travels, particularly not if it meant having to hear any talk about Clara Allen. He had heard enough about Clara in the old days, when Gus and Jake had both been courting her. He had been quite happy to think it all ended when she married, but it hadn’t ended, and listening to Gus pine over her was almost as bad as having him and Jake fighting about her. Now, with Jake back, it would all start again, though Clara Allen had been married and gone for over fifteen years.Deets stood up when Call did, ready for work. He hadn’t said a word while eating, but it was clear he took much pride in being the one who had seen Jake first.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I guess it won’t hurt the coffee none to taste like eggs,” he said testily. “Most of the time your eggs taste like coffee.” “I don’t care,” Bolivar said. “I feel sick.” Pea Eye came stumbling through about that time, trying to get his pizzle out of his pants before his bladder started to flood. It was a frequent problem. The pants he wore had about fifteen small buttons, and he got up each morning and buttoned every one of them before he realized he was about to piss. Then he would come rushing through the kitchen trying to undo the buttons. The race was always close, but usually Pea would make it to the back steps before the flood commenced. Then he would stand there and splatter the yard for five minutes or so. When he could hear sizzling grease in one ear and the sound of Pea Eye pissing in the other, Augustus knew that the peace of the morning was over once again.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Fine with me,” Augustus said. “Call can suffer for you and me and Newt and Deets and anybody else that don’t want to do it for themselves. It’s been right handy having him around to assume them burdens all these years, but if you think he’s doing it for us and not because it’s what he happens to like doing, then you’re a damn fool. He’s out there sitting behind a chaparral bush congratulating himself on not having to listen to Bol brag on his wife. He knows as well as I do there isn’t a hostile within six hundred miles of here.” Bolivar stood over by the wagon and relieved himself for what seemed to Newt like ten or fifteen minutes. Often when Bol started to relieve himself Mr. Gus would yank out his old silver pocket watch and squint at it until the pissing stopped.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Hell, Call, if I worked as hard as you, there’d be no thinking done at all around this outfit. You stay in a lather fifteen hours a day. A man that’s always in a lather can’t think nothin’ out.” “I’d like to see you think the roof back on that barn,” Call said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Fifteen years ago, John Hammond had a dream.
>> 侏罗纪公园2 The Lost World Jurassic Park (1997)Movie Script

Fifteen compress- - Tim GASPS and comes to.
>> 侏罗纪公园 1 Jurassic Park (1993) Movie Script

Fifteen compressions. Two deep breaths.
>> 侏罗纪公园 1 Jurassic Park (1993) Movie Script

Fifteen compressions. Two deep breaths.
>> 侏罗纪公园 1 Jurassic Park (1993) Movie Script