dryly

• drily

From dry +‎ -ly.

• enPR: drīʹli, IPA^(key): /ˈdɹaɪ.li/

dryly (comparative more dryly, superlative most dryly)

1. In a dry manner.
   • 1836, Charles Dickens, chapter XXVII, in The Pickwick Papers:

     ‘Anybody been here, Sammy?’ asked Mr. Weller, dryly, after a long silence.

   • 1900, Thomas Finlayson Henderson, “CULLEN, Robert”, in Dictionary of National Biography, volume 13, page 279:

     The company were convulsed with laughter, all except the host himself, who dryly remarked: ‘Very amusing, Mr. Robert, very amusing, truly; ye're a clever lad, very clever; but just let me tell you, […]’

   • 1908, W[illiam] B[lair] M[orton] Ferguson, chapter IV, in Zollenstein, New York, N.Y.: D. Appleton & Company, →OCLC:

     “My Continental prominence is improving,” I commented dryly. ¶ Von Lindowe cut at a furze bush with his silver-mounted rattan. ¶ “Quite so,” he said as dryly, his hand at his mustache. “I may say if your intentions were known your life would not be worth a curse.”

   • 1909, Emma Orczy, chapter XXXIV, in The Old Man in the Corner:

     "Accident, Suicide, Murder?"
     "Undoubtedly neither accident nor suicide," he said dryly.
     […]
     "You incline to the idea, then, that Mrs. Owen was murdered. Do you know by whom?"
     He laughed, and drew forth the piece of string he always fidgeted with when unravelling some mystery.
     "You would like to know who murdered that old woman?" he asked at last.
     "I would like to hear your views on the subject," Polly replied.
     "I have no views," he said dryly. "No one can know who murdered the woman, since no one ever saw the person who did it. No one can give the faintest description of the mysterious man who alone could have committed that clever deed, and the police are playing a game of blind man's buff."

   • 1918, George Weston, chapter VII, in The Apple-Tree Girl, page 115:

     "Wasn't his father in steamships or something?" asked Charlotte.
     "Aye! Steamships and railroads and banks and trust companies, and nubbody knows what all! But when he died two years ago, mark ye now, he couldn't take a penny of it with him. So his boy Perry come in for it all."
     "Was that his wife I met on the veranda?" asked Charlotte.
     "Perry's wife? Not likely! He isna married."
     "I wonder why."
     "Courted to death, I'm thinking," said Mr. Ogilvie dryly.
     "Poor thing!" said Charlotte, more dryly than he.