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"I've been a bond-slave so long," said Lena, "that I'd like to feel perfectly free and mistress of everything around me." She straightened her back and squared her soft shoulders. "So you shall be!" answered Dick happily. "Even of your husband." "Oh, that, of course," said Lena with an enchanting pout. "Now here we are, and it's very late. You must go. Good night." "Good night," said Dick.
Once she had even got ten extra marks added to an examination paper, in this easy fashion. Whereas, did she, Laura, try to imitate Maria, venture to pout or to smirk, it was ten to one she would be rebuked for impertinence.
"Oh, let's take the automobile, if it isn't too expensive!" exclaimed Evelyn eagerly. "I love to ride in an automobile. Are there any girls at Overton who own cars? If there are I shall certainly cultivate them. I suppose they won't notice me, though, because I am a freshman and a poor one at that," she ended with a pout, her fair face taking on almost sullen lines. Grace shook her head.
I held a line over the edge of the boat until the fish bit, then another hand took it and drew it in. Perch or pout it was mine, and credit and praise were duly given. "What a smart boy!" words that made me more proud than any commendations I have heard since. When they were cooked I wanted my own catch to eat and was humored.
Dishonest people, whether they are kings or coal-heavers, always make a place more difficult to fill for those who come after them. "Well! then set aside the blue," said Lady Foljambe, with a slight pout. "Margaret, what lackest thou?" Mrs Margaret looked wistfully at the fourteen-shilling crimson, and then manfully chose the six-and-eightpenny green.
It must be re-written this afternoon, and both lessons learned so that you can recite them creditably to me before I can allow you any recreation." "I don't care," she said with a pout and a frown, "I just have too much to do, and that's all there is about it." "My child, are you speaking quite as respectfully as you ought in addressing your father?" he asked in grave, reproving accents.
It was some time before he calmed enough to pout and fume and protest in his usual manner, appealing alternately to Heaven as witness and to Hamil for corroboration that he had been outrageously used. "Now, who the devil could suspect him of such intention!" wailed poor Portlaw. "God knows, he was casual with the sex.
However if you insist that we must quarrel, in order to demonstrate the sincerity of my affection, I shall suggest that we have our spats when we part for the night, in order that no precious waking hours may be lost." "You are joking," she exclaimed with a little pout. "Not at all.
Besides, if I had a son, would he live? The name of Charles is fatal; Charlemagne exhausted the luck of it. If I left a son I would tremble at the thought that he would be Charles X." "Who is it that wants to seize your crown?" "My brother d'Alencon conspires against it. Enemies are all about me." "Monsieur," said Marie, with a charming little pout, "do tell me something gayer."
To be the sole possessor of a heart, to speak freely at all times, with the certainty of being understood, is not this happiness?" "Yes," he answered, with a lover's pout of vexation. "Child!" she exclaimed, laughing at him. "Come, you have something to tell me, have you not? You came in absorbed in thought, my Lucien."
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