I've been gaining.
Now before some of you spazz out, be assured my kids know I cry and they wipe the tears away.
When Marat took out a pistol at the tribune, and exclaimed, “One word more, and I shoot myself,” or when David rose from the extreme bench of the Mountain and shouted out, “I demand, I insist upon it, that you assassinate me,” they were scarcely more ripe for Charenton than M. Odillon Barrot, when, Cataline-like, he rushed from the Palais Bourbon, “Abiit, excepit, evasit, erupit”—when, Sylla-like, “He dared depart / In savage grandeur home,” to return, the next day, with the same decent demeanour and benign appearance, at the head of the same array of evening-dressed and white-cravatted individuals, professing bit by bit, and day after day, principles which in their accelerated advance approach them more and more to sans culottes.
Instead of saying, “Thank you” and launching into the monologue, the host said, “Back at ya.” Does this mean that the host was applauding the audience? What for?
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