Even if they did, I can't see them telling him very much.
Felipa was telling me.
You weren't telling anything.
The nurse interrupted him with a series of questions about my well-being and left after telling me a doctor would visit and breakfast was on the way.
This is like the effect of the slow dwelling on long words, not quite well managed, that one notices in a child who is telling a solemn story.
That's a fine thing to be telling me while you're working on my truck.
The next thing she knew, Alex was shaking her awake and telling her they were changing planes.
There was no point in telling him she had intended to sleep in the car.
We wouldn't leave like that, would we; without telling the others?
It was a subtle shift, an undercurrent of cool energy that brushed by him, like when Sofi used her voodoo fortune-telling powers around him.
They have been telling her things.
I'm not telling it right; no, you don't understand, though he encouraged her by saying that he did understand, and he really had understood all she wanted to say.
You keep telling me it's in the past - until you can dig it back up and throw it in my face again.
I guess the way I've acted... not telling you things - what else could you think?
Katie had been telling him that for years, but he hadn't seen it until now.
What other reason would there be for telling his daughter not to discuss his occupation?
He anguished over the possibility, fearful he would be so horror-stricken he'd wake and miss the telling information that would lead to a capture.
Betsy suggested we each assign our new identities without telling each other except our spouses.
What is Howie telling her, not just out loud, but with his voice from dreamland?
First he's telling everything to a shrink; now this bimbo!
Are you telling me this psychic person saw a vision of it?
Are you telling me the tipster operates in a precise time frame?
Howie had tried to explain to us that when he was under, as he called it, he had trouble telling if he was speaking aloud.
I considered telling her the tipster was ill and out of service for a few days but common sense dictated that doing so might encourage someone to commit a crime in the tipster's absence.
I was torn between hanging up and telling the truth.
I compromised by telling Betsy over lunch.
After telling me the contest was over, something I'd just told her, she reluctantly transferred me to Irv Goldman who was in charge of the contest while it was running.
When Betsy mentioned telling the After people, a thought struck me that the death of Owen Bryce, once known to our friends at After would probably tie me directly to the tipster as well.
God; they wouldn't do that, not without telling us!
We drove home with Betsy trying in vain to calm Molly down, telling her we weren't in any danger.
Wouldn't he leave a note or a message of some kind, telling you what was going on?
So he rattled on, telling all the gossip he had heard among the orderlies.
Trying to convict her, he told her she had worn him out, had caused his quarrel with his son, had harbored nasty suspicions of him, making it the object of her life to poison his existence, and he drove her from his study telling her that if she did not go away it was all the same to him.
Mademoiselle Bourienne took from her reticule a proclamation (not printed on ordinary Russian paper) of General Rameau's, telling people not to leave their homes and that the French authorities would afford them proper protection.
Natasha with animated and excited face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest.
Telling the groom to follow him with the horses, Pierre went down the street to the knoll from which he had looked at the field of battle the day before.
Malvintseva expressed approval, and the governor's wife began to speak of Rostov in Mary's presence, praising him and telling how he had blushed when Princess Mary's name was mentioned.
Natasha softly closed the door and went with Sonya to the window, not yet understanding what the latter was telling her.
"How can you show me that you are telling the truth?" said Davout coldly.
They were telling him something and asking him something.
"There, they kept telling us: 'It's dangerous, it's dangerous,'" said the officer, addressing the esaul while Denisov was reading the dispatch.
There Platon Karataev was sitting covered up--head and all--with his greatcoat as if it were a vestment, telling the soldiers in his effective and pleasant though now feeble voice a story Pierre knew.