United States or Burkina Faso ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Then his patient gaze shifted to the east, and he saw the surface of Sky Pond, blue as the eyes of the girl who lay crouching in the cushioned corner of the swinging seat, small hands clinched over the handkerchief a limp bit of stuff damp with her tears. "There is one thing," he said, "that we mustn't do cry about it must we, Eileen?" "No-o." "Certainly not.
It happened, too, that Ellen saw her come in and go out again and this of course clinched the matter when she was brought face to face with the Irish girl who did not know her name but recognized the hat and coat she wore.
"Her earthly name is Susan Sharpe, and she rejoices in red hair and green glasses, and the blood and brawn and muscle of a gladiator a treasure who doesn't object to a howling wilderness or a raving-mad patient. I clinched her at once." "And she goes with you when?" "To-morrow morning. If Mollie's still obdurate, I must leave her in this woman's charge, and return to town.
At such times Kut-le's fingers tightened and he clinched his teeth, but he did not go to her. When, however, the frail figure drooped silently and inertly against the waist strap he seemed to know even in the darkness. Then and then only he lifted her down, the squaws massaged her wracked body, and she was put in the saddle again.
Englehart was gone for so I still choose to call him for some reasons, although I give my reader credit for still more astuteness than I possessed myself, and believe that he has long ago recognized, through this cloud of mystery and travesty thrown about him, an old acquaintance the child Ernie rose from the bed on which he had lain tremulous and observant, with his small hands clinched, his eyes on fire.
Of course she could not marry Delamere after the disclosure, the disgraceful episode at the club would have been enough to make that reasonably certain; it had put a nail in Delamere's coffin, but this crime had driven it in to the head and clinched it. On the other hand, would Miss Pemberton ever speak again to the man who had been the instrument of bringing disgrace upon the family?
His pretty face was white, his little hands hanging at his sides were clinched tightly, but he made not one sound or motion which betrayed pain or fear. He was counting the blows as they fell. He knew how many to expect. There were so many for running away and playing truant, and so many for lying, more for stealing, so many for all three. This time it was all three.
He leaped up, clasping his hands. "Oh, I must work! I mustn't stay here; I must get back to my studies. Life is slipping by me, and I am doing nothing, being nothing!" His face, as pale as death, absolutely shone with his passionate resolution, and his hands were clinched in a silent, inarticulate desire.
One thing he grasped clearly, the girl should be given her chance; nothing in his life must ever again soil her or lower her ideals. Mrs. Herndon was right, and he realized it; neither his presence nor his money were fit to influence her future. He swore between his clinched teeth, his face grown haggard.
"The salon de lecture will be full, too. Where shall we go?" she said, looking up. Ashe's hand clinched as it hung beside him. The old gesture and the drawn, emaciated face they pierced the heart. "I told my servant to arrange me a sitting-room up-stairs," he said, hurriedly, in her ear. "Will you go up first? number ten." She nodded, and began slowly to mount the stairs, coughing as she went.
Word Of The Day