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The outlaw's position remained unchanged until Nick had withdrawn. From where he stood he now saw for the first time the preparations that were being made for his capture: the red torchlights and white candle-lighted lanterns which were reflected through the windows; and a moment more he heard the shouts of the miners calling to one another.
"A very fancy figure," laughed she. "But storms aren't nice." "There are a few of us," replied Magee, "who can be merry through the worst of them because of the rainbow to come." For answer, she flattened her finely-modeled nose into shapelessness against the cold pane. Back of them in the candle-lighted room, the motley crew of Baldpate's winter guests stood about in various attitudes of waiting.
When he was about to leave the house and stood in the candle-lighted hall he was thinking of many dark things which passed unformedly through his mind and made him move slowly.
"I knew when I first saw you what we desired," said the old man, "and my son knew. All that I have is yours both now and afterwards " Dinner was a candle-lighted feast, with heart-shaped ices at the end. "How sure you were," Emily told her lover, smiling. "I was not sure. But I set the stage for success. It was only thus that I kept up my courage.
Schwirtz introduced Una to the others so fulsomely that she was immediately taken into the inner political ring. He gave her a first lesson in auction pinochle also. They had music and recitations at ten, and Una's shyness was so warmed away that she found herself reciting, "I'm Only Mammy's Pickaninny Coon." She went candle-lighted up to a four-poster bed.
He must remind himself every now and then that the great event transpired in the open air, and not in a gloomy, candle-lighted cell in a little corner of a vast church, up-stairs a small cell all bejeweled and bespangled with flashy ornamentation, in execrable taste.
In the pit stood the tree, candle-lighted. There was no other illumination in the room. The semi-darkness, the blazing tree, the rows of hopeful, hoping, hopeless, rising above, white faces over white gowns, the soft rustle of expectancy, the silence when the Dozent with the red beard stepped out and began to read an address all caught Harmony by the throat.
When they had settled themselves in the cosy, candle-lighted drawing-room, with its balcony and the glass door opening out into the garden a door through which the stars could be seen glittering amid the slumbering tops of the trees Chichikov felt more comfortable than he had done for many a day past.
Hiding the brown and purple distances of the Campagna came pictures of dim, candle-lighted spaces, of a thin face with a setting of black and white priestly garments, and in her ears was the sound of a voice endlessly intoning. It made up a vision of the impossible. She sat there a long, long time, and when she wakened to a consciousness of where she was, it was a whining voice that roused her.
"All right, all right." "Got something to keep you quiet?" "Greek grammar." "Good man. Now then!" He plunged across the hall as though it were an icy bath. In the candle-lighted dining-room, Mildred Caniper sat by a wood fire. The table barricaded her from the four Canipers who sat and looked at her with serious eyes, and suddenly she found that she had very little to say.
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