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The commander ordered the men to give way, fearing that the natives in the canoe, when they saw us, would attempt to escape, and he specially wished to gain information from them. He gazed towards the gig with astonishment, though without uttering any cry of alarm. "He has an unusually white skin for a native," observed the captain; "indeed, he must be, I am sure, a European."
The donkey engineer gazed calmly enough. "Them flyin' chunks raise the dickens sometimes," he observed. "Oh, yes, now an' then a man gets laid out. There's some things you got to take a chance on. Maybe you get cut with an axe, or a limb drops on you, or you get in the way of a breakin' line, though a man ain't got any business in the bight of a line.
Almost smiling, he gazed straight into her eyes with such an enraptured caressing look that it seemed strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be so sure he admired her, and not to be acquainted with him.
Aunt Juley tried to say something pleasant: "And how will dear Irene like living in the country?" June gazed at her intently, with a look in her eyes as if her conscience had suddenly leaped up into them; it passed; and an even more intent look took its place, as if she had stared that conscience out of countenance. She replied imperiously: "Of course she'll like it; why shouldn't she?" Mrs.
He stood in the line, looking neither to right nor left, but taking his misfortune like a brave man. "Here is Jago, the friend of Owen, whom you know, King Ina," I said. The king glanced up at the Welsh thane. There was no pride of conquest in the face of Ina as he gazed at his captives, and when one came as Jago came he looked little at him, lest he should seem to exult.
I trembled as I gazed, held there by a fascination I could not overcome, shading my eyes when I saw an arm uplifted to make a cast, and opening them in dread unspeakable as I heard the dull impact of the blow.
Drawing the key from her dress she opened the box and took from it a miniature, gazed at it a minute, and then handed it to me. "Oh, Mrs. Underwood," I exclaimed. "How exquisite." The miniature was of the most beautiful child I had ever seen, a tiny girl of perhaps two years. She stood poised as if running to meet one, her baby arms outstretched.
"It takes all sorts to make a world," said I fatuously, for lack of anything better. "Don't be an infernal idiot!" he answered, flicking the dust off one of the gilt chairs, and afterwards cleaning a space for his elbow on the looking-glass table. "It takes only two sorts to make the world we've lived in, and that's you and I." He gazed slowly round the walls.
They gazed upon the features of their dead as if they were totally unable to comprehend it all, and reported their identification to the attendants and watched the body as it was put into a coffin and went away. Many came to look for their loved ones, but I did not see one show more grief or realization of the dreadful character of their errand than this.
"I allow you've never seen John Shadrack's widder," said he. "I'd like to, Tip. Will you take me with you to Happy Valley?" The smile left Tip's face, and he gazed at me, open-mouthed with astonishment. "You would go over the mountain?" he said, drawling every word. Over the mountain there is peace!
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