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As it was, I was not seriously hurt. Perhaps I had torn my dress, and I should certainly have to buy a new pair of gloves, whether I could afford them or not; otherwise I didn't think I should suffer, except for a few black-and-blue patches. But how was I to get out of this dark hole? That was the question.
"It did not strike me that the man laughed," Pen said, "And as for lobsters, I thought he would have liked to eat me after the lobsters. He shook hands with me, and gripped me so, that he bruised my glove black-and-blue. He is a young surgeon. He comes from Clavering. Don't you remember the gilt pestle and mortar in High Street?"
We could hardly believe that the fall had not injured grandmother Ruth, and as a matter of fact Theodora afterwards told us that she had several large black-and-blue spots as a result of her adventure. The old lady herself, however, scouted the idea that she had been in the least injured and did not like to have us show any solicitude about her.
The skin had been peeled from his elbow, and his body showed several dark spots that Ken knew would soon be black-and-blue bruises. His legs from his knees down bore huge lumps so sore to the touch that Ken winced even at gentle rubbing. But he did not mind the pain. All the darkness seemed to have blown away from his mind. "What a fine fellow Worry is!" said Ken. "How I'll work for him!
"She was a wicked, heartless hussy! and if I know her, I'll never speak to her again; for if he was really in earnest, she ought to be killed for laughing at him." "So ought you, then, for making fun of poor Fisher when he went down on his knees behind the huckleberry bushes last summer. He was earnest enough, for he looked as black-and-blue as his berries when he got home.
Patrick nursed his black-and-blue spots and fell back on his flute for solace. After one such seance, when he was twelve years of age, he disappeared with a colored boy about his own age. They took a shotgun, fishing-tackle and a violin. They were gone three weeks, during which time Patrick had not been out of his clothes, nor once washed his face. They had slept out under the sky by campfires.
"Heaven only knows. Some men are dreadful that way. Why, he left a black-and-blue mark!" Blaze broke into a cold sweat and cursed feebly under his breath. "He wasn't drunk, either. He was just naturally depraved. You could see it in his face." "How DID you escape?" "Well, I'll tell you. We chased him up across the boulevard and in among the tents, and then " Mrs.
Next instant Hannah Winter brought up with a crash against her own image in that long and tricky mirror which forms a broad full-length panel set in the marble wall at the north end of Peacock Alley. Passersby and the loungers on near-by red plush seats came running, but she was unhurt except for a forehead bump that remained black-and-blue for two weeks or more.
His palmodic movements were very curious. When standing near a table looking at something, the chin would suddenly come down with a thump that would leave a black-and-blue mark, or his head would be thrown violently to one side, perhaps coming in contact with some adjacent hard object with equal force, or, while standing quietly, his legs would give a sudden twitch, and he would be thrown violently to the ground, and this even happened several times when he was seated on the edge of a stool.
Nat put in his double-fisters, starting the blood, and bringing the black-and-blue spots all over the face and arms of the other, whom we expected to see give in every moment. But the more he was hurt the better he fought.
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