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She was sure that she must not move, and the more so because at a very slight motion of hers there had been a motion as if in response from the man on the porch. Then there was another drawback. Some roses grew behind the hollyhocks, and her skirt was caught. She had felt a little pull at her skirt when she essayed a slight tentative motion.
"Perhaps you'd better question me," said he. Maybe I can scare up details if you'll let me know just what you wish to hear about." "How are their dresses made?" she asked. "Oh, skirt, and waist, and so on," he airily replied. She made a gesture of impatience. "Well, then, how is the skirt made? Tell me that. Tell me everything that you remember about skirts. Are they loose as mine, or tighter?"
Just once my heart beat high, when a tiny knock came and a timid, docile little voice said that tea was ready. But I heard the rustle of a skirt, and guessed the directing angel in Aunt Emma, and responded, 'Thank you, dear, run away and say that I am coming, with a pleasant visitor's inflection which I was able to sustain for the rest of afternoon. 'She goes to bed at seven, said Emma.
She slept in all her clothing but her skirt, waist, and shoes. She kneeled down upon the bare, sprung, and slanting floor, said a prayer, arose with a beaming face. "It's nice and warm in the room. How I do dread the winter, the cold weather though no doubt we'll make out all right! Everything always does turn out well for me. The Lord takes care of me. I must make me a cup of tea."
They set to work to fill their basket with these, and when it was done there were always finer ones still almost out of reach. These must be had at any cost. Delia would lie flat on the punt, and while Anna held the skirt of her dress, would manage to get hold of them with the handle of a stick.
This is all new . . ." But her eyes happened to come to rest on her feet, wrapped in dirty rags, and she knew that she was clad in a short and tattered skirt, that her arm peeped forth through a rent in her sleeve, and that her hair was down and flying. Her cheek and neck on one side seemed coated with some curious substance. She brushed it with her hand, and caked mud rattled to the floor.
For it is a climate-proof shellac. Her eyebrows are the self-made kind, and her lips were done by hand. Her skirt is too short for looks and too tight for comfort; she is tightly prisoned at the waistline and not sufficiently confined in the bust. There is nothing natural or rational anywhere about her. She is as artificial as a tin minnow and she glitters like one.
Many a person that morning stepped out of bed up to the knee in muddy water. With the first of the dawn the curate stood peering from the window of his dressing-room, through the water that coursed down the pane, to discover the state of the country; for the window looked inland from the skirt of the town. All was gray mist, brown water, and sheeting rain.
The open-shutter slits emitted horizontal rods of light that fell in thin parallels across Dorothy's skirt. The street was silent save for a group on the steps of a house across the way, who, from time to time, raised their voices in a soft, bantering song. " When you wa-ake You shall ha-ave All the pretty little hawsiz "
Jacky was talking to "Lord" Bill. She was habited in her dungaree skirt and buckskin bodice. Presently Bill dismounted and passed into the house. Lablache shut his glasses with a snap and turned away from the window. For some time he stood gazing straight before him and a swift torrent of thought flowed through his active brain.
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