The lounger had lounged out of view, and Miss Wade and Tattycoram were gone.
Buvat was a lounger, as every bourgeois of Paris ought to be.
He was just as little of the lounger in his lighter reading.
“I have to live a heap of my life alone,” the lounger went on.
She wished him to know that she was no lounger in woodcraft.
The lounger was Baron Tripeaud, the manufacturing baron the stock-jobber.
If a writer was praised in The Lounger, his fame was assured.
The only place in which a lounger is not seen is the quarter-deck.
The whole of the monarchy is contained in the lounger; the whole of anarchy in the gamin.
Then the other lounger, a fellow who pretended to know everything, put in his word.