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She stopped from time to time, shivering as if better to taste the dramatic solemnity that surrounded them turned her blonde head a little to look at Camors; then cast on him her inspiring smile, placed her hand on her heart, as if to say, "I am fearful," and went on.
For a second, Dierdre thought this beautiful hair must be blonde, as the woman could not be more than twenty-eight; but the light from the window fell full upon the silver ripples, blanching them to dazzling whiteness. "What a lovely creature," the girl thought. "What can have happened to turn her hair white?" As for the man, Dierdre took an instant dislike to him, for his selfishness.
Uncle Peter won't show fight. All he'll show will be a blonde night gown cutting across lots to beat the breeze. Aunt Martha will climb to the attic, Clara J. will be busy doing a scream solo, and Tacks will crawl under the bed and pull the bed after him. There'll be no interference, Bunch; it's easy money!" With this complete understanding we parted and I hustled back to Jiggersville.
A charming little figure in the shadows of a wall stood tiptoe with her arms upstretched and her blonde head shone in the light from a church window above her as a florid choir boy leaned over the wall to embrace her.
This observation gave place to a review of women known in society and to new discussions on their grace, their chic and beauty. Musadieu pronounced the blonde Marquise de Lochrist incomparably charming, while Bertin esteemed as a beauty Madame Mandeliere, with her brunette complexion, low brow, her dusky eyes and somewhat large mouth, in which her teeth seemed to sparkle.
"It's the Mediterranean diet." "Olive oil," he said. Ingrid had lost a few pounds, although she didn't need to. Her thick blonde hair was cut short and away from her even features. Her expression was practical and good-natured, dominated by eyes the color of transparent jade. "You don't look so bad yourself," she said. "Ah, well." "More serious," she said, "more gray in your mustache, thinner."
"You must be our dragoman, Mr. Hill; I understand you are up on all this," said the lady, adhering closely to his side. "Where are we now?" "Temple of Khonsu," said Billy with bitter brevity. Ahead of them Arlee's blonde head was uptilted toward Falconer's remarks. "Khonsu? I never heard of him! Or is it her?" Lady Claire laughingly demanded.
The gophers aren't going to get ahead of me! Monday the Twelfth What would you say if you saw Brunhild drive up to your back door? What would you do if you discovered a Norse goddess placidly surveying you from a green wagon-seat? How would you act if you beheld a big blonde Valkyr suddenly introducing herself into your little earthly affairs?
It was amazing how quickly Kennedy pieced the facts together into an explanation. "Yes," he concluded triumphantly, "that blonde woman was our dark- skinned mulatto made over Marie. But they can't escape the power of science, even by using science themselves. She might change her identity to our eyes, but she could not before the Reichert test and the microscope.
The hospitable mansion of Judge Ray was a complete rendezvous for convalescent soldiers; also the homes of Mrs. McKinstry and Mrs. Morgan. The latter was one of the most beautiful women I ever saw. Dr. Gore used to say, "She is just plum pretty." She was a perfect blonde, with a small head "running over" with short, golden curls. The Misses Ray were brunettes, very handsome and stately.
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