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She said nothing to him on his departure, but with a half-wandering sense, that may perhaps have described something of the ruling passion of an earlier day, she rose shortly after he had left the house, and placing herself before the small mirror which surmounted the toilet in the apartment, rearranged with studious care, and with an eye to its most attractive appearance, the long and flowing tresses of that hair, which, as we have already remarked, was of the most silky and raven-like description.
He thought over his costume and threw his collar and the tell-tale aeronaut's white cap into the water far below. He turned his coat collar up to hide any gleam of his dirty shirt. The tools and nuts in his pockets were disposed to clank, but he rearranged them and wrapped some letters and his pocket-handkerchief about them.
More of the material is commonly rearranged by solution and redeposition, so that limestone may be converted into crystalline marble, granular sandstones into firm masses, known as quartzites, and clays into the harder form of slate.
'How literal you are, Eglantine! 'Am I? I think you do me injustice, Edith dear, returned the amiable guest with a tinge of stateliness as she rolled up her wool. Edith smiled, put down her book, looked at the clock and rearranged the large orange-coloured cushion behind her back. Then she took the book up again, looked through it and again put it down.
Every mechanical contrivance that became the subject of his study came forth from his hand and mind rearranged, simplified, and made new, with the impress of his individuality stamped upon it.
Tracing the pattern of the rug with his toe, Jimmy remained stubbornly oblivious of their attentions. He rearranged the pillows on the couch, and finally, for want of a better occupation, he wound his watch. All to no avail. He could feel Zoie's cat-like gaze upon him. "Jimmy can get the other one," she said.
With a strange disposition to put off the opening of the letter, he moved about his room, rearranged the books, lighted an extra lamp, and finally sat down in an arm-chair, and leaning both his arms on the table looked at the letter lying there so white, so still.
Face and form he recognized, but not the new poise, the dignity of her motherhood. The brown eyes he remembered as lighted by love, now expressed unutterable abhorrence. "Tess, dear Tess," he pleaded, "let me talk to you." Tess stooped over the child, rearranged his little waist, and pushed back the curly hair. "Boy go home now, and mother'll come directly."
It was not yet easy to realize that, until the success of his play six thousand pounds sterling in eight calendar months a new book had been an event. . . . For a happy hour he arranged and rearranged. At the end, surveying his handiwork with undisguised pleasure, he thought of the bizarre night when Babs Neave had forced her way in. He could still hardly believe that it had occurred.
The Overland had come and gone. Another day! Mrs. Adams sighed, patted her smooth black hair, and glanced down at her simple and neat attire. She rearranged the flowers, and was stepping back to view the effect when something caused her to turn and glance toward the office. There had been no sound, yet in the doorway stood a man evidently a rider. He was looking at the calendar on the office wall.
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