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The corners of the pouting mouth went down piteously, and the poor little bosom with the beads on it above the green serge gown heaved so, that there was no longer any help for it: a loud sob would come, and the big tears fell as if they were making up for lost time. Here was a situation! It would have been brutal to leave her, and Tito's nature was all gentleness.
"You shall wear the duke's own color, purple, if you will hold your tongue about worthless matters and tell your father what I want," cried Yolanda, impetuously thrusting Twonette toward Castleman. "You tell him your own wants," answered Twonette, pouting. "Then perhaps his own daughter may have his ear for a moment or two." Yolanda laughed at Twonette's display of ill-temper.
He steadied himself against the mantel-piece. "But " he began, and ended, "is that honest?" He dimly descried her lips pouting. "We can always send her another when we have one," she said. He stood there, dumb, glad of the darkness. "I must go down now," she said. "I mustn't stay long." "Why?" he articulated. "Rosie," she replied briefly. "What about Rosie?" "She watches me ever since she came.
She would seek out short-haired mannish women with theories and oodles of unpublished short stories, and feed them well, opening her house for their drawing-room talks. She would be a lion tamer! She was done with sighing and tears, belonging to the first stage of Glorious Girlism; and with pouting and flirting, which belonged to the second she would now make them roar, herself included!
If you have any introductions, you will find Guernsey as hospitable a spot as any in the world." "I have been here a week," she replied, pouting her full crimson lips, "and have not had a chance of speaking a word, except to strangers like myself who don't know a soul." That, then, was the cause of the little indisposition which had obtained me the honor of attending her.
She stopped, gazing into Courtland's face with a pretty vague impatience and a slight pouting of her lip. "Co'nnle!" "Miss Sally." "Yo' say yo' had known me for three years before yo' saw me. Well, we met once before we ever spoke to each other!" Courtland looked in her laughing eyes with admiring wonder. "When?" he asked. "The first day yo' came!
"'Yes. You may say so. But it was all that was wanted to let the meaning of her forehead come out yes, of her whole face, which had now and then, in the pauses of his passion, perplexed the youth. All of it, curled nostrils, pouting lips, projecting chin, instantly fell into harmony with that darkness between her eyebrows. The youth understood it in a moment, and went home miserable.
The sweet, pouting, innocent, round thing! It was impossible not to think of her. Tito thought he should like some time to take her a present that would please her, and just learn if her step-father treated her more cruelly now her mother was dead. Or, should he at once undeceive Tessa, and then tell Romola about her, so that they might find some happier lot for the poor thing?
The mortal terror of a mother robbed by a higher power of her child could scarcely be more vividly depicted, and yet haughty defiance hovered around her slightly pouting lips; the uplifted hands seemed not only anxiously to defend, but also to defy an invisible foe with powerless anger.
You saw nothing! And that cap is mine." "How is that?" "Why, just that. I wear it for dressing up.... Yes, it is mine, und Punctum." "Who brought you the bundle, then?" Emilie made no answer and, pouting, followed Madame Fritsche out of the room. Kuzma Vassilyevitch laughed, took the cards, and all evil thoughts immediately slipped out of his mind. But they came back to him that very day.
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