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With a quick movement that was one of her charms, Sidney suddenly closed the door and slipped back into the room. K., hearing the door close, thought she had gone, and dropped heavily into a chair. "My best friend in all the world!" said Sidney suddenly from behind him, and, bending over, she kissed him on the cheek.
Through the door they heard Zeena's voice calling out from below: "Dan'l Byrne says you better hurry up if you want him to take that trunk." They drew apart with stricken faces. Words of resistance rushed to Ethan's lips and died there. Mattie found her handkerchief and dried her eyes; then, bending down, she took hold of a handle of the trunk. Ethan put her aside.
"Freckles, Freckles," said McLean's voice. Freckles snatched down his sleeve and arose to his feet. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "You'll surely be belavin' I thought meself alone." McLean pushed him carefully to the seat, and bending over him, opened a pocket-case that he carried as regularly as his revolver and watch, for cuts and bruises were of daily occurrence among the gang.
In the wash-house I found Honorine bending over her linen, the great tears streaming down her face, in spite of her every effort to control them. "Why, Honorine, what's the matter?" "He's gone, Madame gone without my seeing him without even a clean pair of socks!" "Who?" "My son, Madame!" And the tears burst out afresh, though in silence.
Why, we considers that one of the most ingenious contrivances in the whole museum." Meanwhile, Daisy had let go her hold of her father. With Chandler in delighted attendance, she had moved away to the farther end of the great room, and now she was bending over yet another glass case. "Whatever are those little bottles for?" she asked wonderingly.
It was a pretty sight to see him bending forward, his hands resting on his knees, watching a battle royal between the tops of Speug and Howieson; and if anything could be better it was to see the Count trying to spin a top himself, and expostulating with it in unknown tongues.
The youngest is a constructive mechanical engineer. The second son is Harold Bell Wright. "During ten years this mother and this son live in rare intimacy. The boy's first enduring impression of this life is the vision of the mother bending affectionately over him while criticising the water color sketch his unpracticed fingers had just made.
That artless lad, drinking tea at the same table, and bending meekly over his cup and saucer, having taken sidelong observations of his master for some time, who was reading the newspaper with great difficulty, but much dignity, through his glasses, broke silence by saying 'Oh! I beg your pardon, Captain, but you mayn't be in want of any pigeons, may you, Sir? 'No, my lad, replied the Captain.
The little beauty smiles faintly, and bending a fatal languishing glance upon her admirer, says: "You called me what was it?" "Ah, pardon me." "Oh certainly! but please say what you called me." "How can I?" "By telling me," says the beauty philosophically. "Must I?" says Jacques, reflecting that after all his offence was not so dreadful. "If you please." "I said Belle-bouche." "Ah! that is ?"
In an instant he had a vision of early summer mornings dewy, perfumed, silent, save for the birds, and all the soft stir of rural birth and growth, of a chancel fragrant with many flowers, of a distant church with scattered figures, of the kneeling form of his wife close beside him, himself bending over her, the sacrament of the Lord's death in his hand.
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