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She raised a haggard face, its youthful beauty distorted by horror, its pallid cheeks stained with mire, and I blenched before the look in these wide eyes. "Don't touch me!" she whispered hoarsely. "Don't look at me I can't abide it go away let me die " "Child, where is your home?" "None!" she whispered. "None! I durs'n't go back ... now.
A gurgling comes from her throat, which we can hardly see in the cavity that is like a nest of shadow under her chin. She has blenched, and the skin that is drawn over the bones of her face like a shroud grows whiter every moment. Intent upon her breathing, we throng about her. We offer her our hands so near and so far and do not know what to do. I am watching Marie.
"Son of Henry the Eighth, hast thou prayed?" The boy struggled helplessly in his bonds, and at the same time forced a smothered sound through his closed jaws, which the hermit chose to interpret as an affirmative answer to his question. "Then pray again. Pray the prayer for the dying!" A shudder shook the boy's frame, and his face blenched.
It is to represent a day in the life of a New York Bud. You can have your choice of several roles, and I hope you will lend us a hand." Kedzie had heard of this project and she had gnawed her bitter heart in a chagrin of yearning to take part in it. She had not been invited, and she had blenched every time she thought of it.
Who was it, in the bullet-storm that swept the slope of Woerth, from facing which the stout hearts of the fighting men blenched and quailed, that there walked quietly into it, to speak words of peace and consolation to the dying men whom that terrible storm had beaten down?
"Still unfinished-perhaps spoiled. I must begin again." Taking his hat and coat he uttered a weary sigh and was about to open the door when his cheek blenched with pain, sight seemed to leave him, the cry for help that rose to his lips was stifled in a groan of anguish, a groping gesture brought a shelf of retorts and bottles to the floor, and he fell writhing among their fragments.
Fifteen years ago you would have started at a theft. Three years back you would have blenched at the name of murder. Is there any crime, is there any cruelty or meanness, from which you still recoil? Five years from now I shall detect you in the fact! Downward, downward, lies your way; nor can anything but death avail to stop you."
A concentration of many grudges, kept very still, as by white heat, characterised this remarkable speech. Ingram blenched. "By George, my man," he said, "you'll have to make that good." Glyde said, "And I will. You have behaved, you are behaving, like a dog in this house; and you're to take a dog's wages." Ingram jumped in his saddle, rose in his stirrups.
To his surprise, McGee, whose calm eyes had never dimmed or blenched, after regarding him curiously, took the volume from him, laid it on the table, opened it, turned its leaves critically, said earnestly, "That's the law here, is it?" and then held out his hand. "Shake!" Madison Wayne hesitated and then grasped his hand.
Her eye never lights up with joy. The bloom and flush have left her careworn face. Tears from her eyes long used to weeping have blenched the coloring of her life existence, and she is passing through life with the shadow of the grave upon her desolate heart. Joe Gough has been true to his pledge, plenty and comfort have taken the place of poverty and pain.
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