in actual fact
y'n gwiryonedh · yn gwirvos · yn hwir
actual fact oor Kornies
actual fact
Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies
gwirvos
Geskatte vertalings
Vertoon algoritmies gegenereerde vertalings
Soortgelyke frases
voorbeelde
Advanced filtering
Voorbeelde moet herlaai word.
in actual fact
Da yw an kig-ma.langbot langbot
in actual fact
Nyns ov studhyer.langbot langbot
deed, fact, actuality, reality
Ott, yma hi ow kul ergh!langbot langbot
(hkv.) charge, debit decisively (azv.) decisively, resolutely deda (hkg.) deed, fact, actuality, reality
Yw hemma dha gorev?langbot langbot
He read the document: “Where is the rest of your squad?” “In the front carriage of the train, Sir. Only I need to travel with the coffin.” I guessed that he would be simply too idle to check the front carriage for the rest of my squad. “But there’s no mention of any coffin in these orders, Sergeant. How is that?” “Well, Sir, you will recall that there were no military casualties in the engagement outside the university. So, ...” “And you were there?” “Yessir, I was,” I replied. “And were there? Were there casualties, Sergeant? Unofficially, of course,” pursued the Major. This put me in a dilemma: did I reveal what was obviously a military secret (i.e. the fact that there had actually been casualties) or did I refuse to answer the direct question of a superior officer? I took the same line as before: “I’m not at liberty to answer that question , Major.” I waited, still staring straight ahead, still standing at attention. David had been listening in. He was obviously unhappy. I could hear him making little grunts and groans of protest from within the coffin – and, so, I think, could the Major. “Can you hear something, Sergeant?” I put on a puzzled expression and responded: “Only the noise of the train, Sir.” David’s unhappy noises subsided for a moment but the Major was still not content. “Well, Sergeant,” he said. “I understand that you may not be able to answer my questions directly...” Okay. “... but you can satisfy my curiosity by opening the coffin, can’t you?”
Y hyllir y usya avel kollel.langbot langbot
Once again, I battled with the gears of the vehicle: Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Paul helpfully assisted the process by asking: “Are you sure you can drive this thing?” (and other questions in that vein.) Thanks, Paul. In any event, I eventually found a gear that was low enough to allow the truck to move off with a lurch. “Now, that’s a fine gear,” I observed as we cruised along at 4 or 5 mph. “I think we should stick with that one, don’t you?” Paul and David huffed in contempt – as one – but made no verbal reply. That was a little bit disturbing. After all, Paul hadn’t fully recovered from his bite as yet. Oh well, Paul would soon be at the Baillieu – and no longer my problem. We exited College Crescent and entered Royal Parade, heading South. I needed to find the entrance on the West side of campus which would take me neatly to the front of the Baillieu. (This route is no longer possible – too many new buildings on campus.) I did, of course, have plenty of time to keep a look-out but was conscious of the fact that we were travelling, in effect, in the service lane of Royal Parade. The width of the service lane was quite tight and I was hemmed in on both sides by rows of mature elm trees. (Very pretty, of course, but a real problem when trying to manoeuvre a large truck.) I spotted the entrance – eventually – and applied the brake very gingerly. I didn’t want to stall the bugger after all this – and I couldn’t actually remember how to re-start one if the engine stopped. I didn’t share this fact with my passengers, deciding that they wouldn’t be much interested in my ignorance on this point. Left turn. Side swipe the trunk of a very large tree. (Crunch!) Drive over the top of the gate-keeper’s booth. (Loud metallic, crumpling sound.) Smash through boom gate. (Snap!) “Fuck!” screamed my gay friends in unison. “Hmm,” I said. “Yes, that did go well, didn’t it?” “Are we there yet, Dad?” said Paul in a weak and quavering voice.
Ni a vynn oberi.langbot langbot
We adjourned to the interior of the crypt – David followed reluctantly. Evidently, he still wanted to go back to the basement of Union House. High Tea with pseudo-royalty was, evidently, not his thing. “The Dutch will come to Our rescue,” muttered Charles, a propos of nothing in particular. “They are sympathetic to Our cause.” (As it happens, the Dutch did provide help to the Royalists’ cause – but then got very grumpy, and declared war on them, when the Royalists didn’t pay their bills. The English Civil War ended soon afterwards and the Dutch simply forgot to declare peace for 335 years – until a Cornish historian reminded them of the situation. The longest declared war in history – and no casualties on either side. Remarkable.) High Tea was duly served by Paul – ‘one may run out of food completely but one never runs out of tea, does one?’ Paul did not look as well as Charles. In fact, ‘pale and wan’ would be a fair description. I decided to raise this with him. “You’ve been unwell, Paul?” “Yes, Charles tells me that I nearly died after ... But I don’t actually remember.” Hmm. “Where were you bitten?” I ventured. “Here, in the crypt – while I was with Charles,” he replied. “Oh,” I said. “Actually,” I continued, “what I meant was which part of your body was bitten?” Paul’s pallor suddenly flushed crimson. Obviously, he had not been bitten on the forearm like Charles. He stammered something unintelligible, sighed and said: “If you must know, one of the zombies bit me on the left buttock.” I stifled a childish giggle.
Hemm yw ow broder.langbot langbot
7 sinne gevind in 5 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.