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She is such a wee little thing, and her face is so sweet, and her eyes so childish and wistful, and her voice so musical and flute-like that before I knew what I was doing I lifted her from her feet and hugged her hard and said I meant to love her, first for Guy's sake and then for her own.

She had stared into the rich dark shadows whence start out, spirit-like, faces of old oil pictures, faces of old clocks, faces of old marble busts; and she had been so charmed by the soft voice of the young saleswoman, whose flute-like tones would lure gold from a miser's pocket, that she would have collected half the things in the shop if she had had the money.

Catherine's eyebrows arched, and a swift, lightning glance of hatred passed between the two. Then Diane's lids drooped again, and her soft, flute-like voice continued: "The King kisses your Majesty's hands, and says there is much wind and rain at Fontainebleau, but that he has slain three boars and five stags."

At the first faint, flute-like note Jill thought that she must have awakened from sleep or delirium, and, it must be confessed, really did not care which was the solution of the mystery; sinking back into a state of apathy so exhausted was she, until the three camels came to a standstill, and the Arab, with something that looked like a dark cloak across his arm, drew his beast alongside of hers.

We run all over the town that way. 7 Brandy of thirty-six degrees. Evening arrives; we must go back, however. The sister who is in charge of the old men's ward says to us in a small flute-like voice: "Soldiers, gentlemen, you were very cold last night, but you are going to have a good bed." And she leads us into a great room where three night lamps, dimly lighted, hang from the ceiling.

The Persian, Mirza Gholan Rezah, repeated in his flute-like voice: "'O thou, to the arch of whose eyebrow the new moon is a slave;" and, hearing the words as in a dream, Philip Ashe looked across the little circle to see a woman whose beauty smote him so strongly that he drew a quick breath.

One voice, flute-like, piercing, sweet, rang high over the rest. Sister Josepha heard and trembled, as she buried her face in her hands, and let her tears fall, like other beads, through her rosary.

"It is I," said several voices, among which I distinguished the flute-like tones of my aunt Laura, and those of my godmother. Madame de P., who never misses a chance of pressing her two thick lips to some one's cheeks, accompanied them. Their eyes glittered, and all three had a sly and triumphant look, ferreting and inquisitive, which greatly intimidated me.

We were silent, and could hear the clear flute-like notes of thrushes hidden in the tall trees, and the soft cooing of a dove. "That gives one," he said, "some sense of the happiness which one cannot capture for oneself!" He smiled mournfully, and in a moment I saw his light figure receding among the trees. What a world it is for sorrow!

"Ah, you don't approve?" questioned his conductor, with curious urbanity. "Approve?" cried Newman. "I wish that when I had him there, night before last, I had locked him up in my cabinet de toilette!" Valentin's late second opened his eyes, and shook his head up and down two or three times, gravely, with a little flute-like whistle.