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Hanson encircled her arms and body in his powerful grip and bore her slowly backward toward the pile of blankets at the far end of the tent. His face was bent close to hers. His eyes were narrowed to two slits of heat and passion and desire.
He sits up in his bunk, swaddled in Annie Black's bandages, and through slits between his frost bites, he moults the follering rhetoric: "Aye tole you vere de claim iss. She own de Nomber Twenty fraction on Buster Creek, 'longside may and may broder. She's dam good fraction, too." I consider that a blamed white stunt for Swedes; paying for their lives with the mine they swindled her out of.
They had built them a vast great tower, resting on wheels at its base, so that it might by pushed forward from behind, and slanting at its foot to allow for the steepness of the path and leave it always upright. It was storeyed inside, with ladders joining each floor, and through slits in the side which faced us bowmen could cover an attack.
But Harry was the worst, for he looked dreadful; and no amount of bathing would make him decent. To begin with, his cap would not go on so as to cover his bruised forehead; his eyes were reduced to narrow slits, so that he could scarcely see; while his mouth was drawn down all on one side.
I found myself in a kind of round cellar, paved with large flagstones, and lighted by five or six narrow slits in the walls. The officer told me I must order what food required to be brought once a day, as no one was allowed to come into the 'calabozo', or dungeon, by night. "How about lights?" "You may lave one lamp always burning, and that will be enough, as books are not allowed.
On each side the tunnel was pierced with slits, and the crossbow bolts discharged at only a few yards' distance crashed through armor as if it were cloth and laid man after man upon the stones. They raged and leaped before the great iron-clamped barrier, but the wall itself was as easy to tear down. It was bitter to draw back; but it was madness to remain.
To begin with, last evening, at five o'clock, I heard his voice issuing from between the slits of the ventilator in the after-wall of the chart- house. Standing at the corner of the house, quite out of range, I answered him. "Getting hungry?" I jeered. "Let me tell you what we are going to have for dinner. I have just been down and seen the preparations.
McHale stood equally still, facing them, his eyes narrowed down to slits, his left hand holding the lapel of his coat, his right hand, a half-smoked cigarette between the first and second fingers, on a level with his chin. He expelled a thin stream of smoke from his lungs, and spoke: "I reckon you can tell him yourself. Here he come now." The eyes of the first man never shifted.
See him jump! Like a bloody deer." "Don't run, you half-breeds. Come along with you! Come and meet Father Demetrio!" Now it was Demetrio's men who screamed insults. Manteca, his smooth face swollen in exertion, yelled his lungs out. Pancracio roared, the veins and muscles in his neck dilated, his murderous eyes narrowed to two evil slits.
Thanks, yes, I'll eat a couple. We take another lesson tomorrow, Hans." He meant the riding lesson. "Fine!" said Hans. "You know, I'm going to get the leather spats now, because I got A on my exercise last week." "I suppose you aren't taking riding lessons yet, Kröger?" asked Immerthal, and his eyes were only a pair of shining slits. "No," answered Tonio with quite uncertain accent.
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