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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."
I have men enough at Condillac to see my orders carried out, no matter what they be. "You may tell yourself that this fellow will return to help you. Perhaps he will; but when he does, it will be too late so far as you shall be concerned." Terrified by that threat, Valerie had blenched, and had felt her spirit deserting her. "And if I comply, madame?" she had asked.
"Charlie's staying at the Grand Babylon Hotel," said Eve, as though she were saying that Charlie had forged a cheque or blown up the Cenotaph. Even the imperturbable man of the world in front of her momentarily blenched at the news. "More fool him!" observed Mr. Prohack. "Yes, and he's got a bedroom and a private sitting-room and a bathroom, and a room for a secretary " "Hence a secretary," Mr.
The tone of it was so different from the woodsman's generally strong, happy-go-lucky manner of speech, that Dol blenched as if he had been struck. "Who stole it?" he gasped, after a minute, scarcely knowing that he spoke aloud. Unnoticed in the firelight, Cyrus clapped a strong hand over the boy's mouth, to stifle further questions. "Keep still!" he whispered.
The brave, stern, old woman's face was blenched, and her eyes were almost set in horror, as she prayed; the great drops running down her cheeks. It seemed almost as if she had to make a struggle to recover her sense of the present homely accustomed life, before she could find words to answer: 'Evil nature! Daughters, Satan is abroad, is close to us.
And yet she was sad and sorry and ashamed, because of the futile bustle and bluster and cheerful courageous activity about her. Not a cheek had blenched; not a hand had trembled; not a voice had been lifted to protest or counsel surrender, despite their meagre capacities for defense and their number, but a handful.
You, sir," the count turned to Wilfrid "you will stay below. Are you in the pay of the insurgents?" Wilfrid, the weakest of human beings where women were involved with him, did one of the hardest things which can task a young man's fortitude: he looked his superior in the face, and neither blenched, nor frowned, nor spoke. Ammiani spoke for him. "There is no pay given in our ranks."
"It's your own house. But I shouldn't. I am a dead shot at a yard and a half. You wouldn't believe the number of sitting haystacks I've picked off at that distance. I just can't miss. On second thoughts, I sha'n't fire to kill you. Let us be humane on this joyful occasion. I shall just smash your knees. Painful, but not fatal." He waggled the pipe suggestively. Sir Thomas blenched.
No realism is more crude than that of the disillusionized idealist; and for months the young Czar had seen his dream of a free and happy Europe fade away amidst the smoke of Napoleon's guns and the mists of English muddling. At first he blenched not even at the news of Friedland.
At these words, every one of them an adder, Alfred turned on her furiously, and his long arm shot out of its own accord, and the fingers opened like an eagle's claw. She saw, and understood, but never blenched. Her vindictive eye met his dilating flashing orbs unflinchingly. "You pass for a woman," he said, "and I am too wretched for anger."
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