Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
"When and where you will," replied the American, "and with whatever weapon you choose." Aouda in vain attempted to retain Mr. Fogg. As vainly did the detective endeavor to make the quarrel his. Passepartout wished to throw the colonel out of the window, but a sign from his master cheeked him. Phileas Fogg left the car, and the American followed him upon the platform. "Sir," said Mr.
I'll put some nice rosy- cheeked apples down to roast, to be soft for Mistress Woodford's sore mouth."
Well, not a few of us have met an Amy Leffingwell: some plump-faced, pink- cheeked child, with a delicate little concave nose not at all "strong," and a fine little chin none too vigorously moulded, and a pair of timid candid blue eyes shadowed by a wisp or so of fluffy hair and have not always taken her for what she was.
Ormonde could not leave the unconscious form; her voice would not be beard if she called for help. But the fainting fit lasted a long time. Thyrza lay as one who is dead; her features calm, all the disfiguring anguish passed from her beauty. Her companion had a moment of terror. She was on the point of hastening to the house, when a sign of revival cheeked her. She supported Thyrza in her arms.
She saw again the scenes of her childhood. Again, as she stood under the cherry tree that showered its delicate blossoms down with every puff of air, she looked with loving confidence into the face of the brown cheeked boy who spoke so seriously those childish vows. Again, upon her lips she felt that kiss of the childhood mating.
John Schuyler was at least a man not a palsied, pallid, shrunken, shriveled caricature of something that had once been human.... John Schuyler had hands not nerveless, shaking talons.... This sunken-eyed, sunken- cheeked, wrinkled thing was not John Schuyler this thing that crawled, quiveringly from the loose, pendulous lips of which came mirth that was more bitter to hear than the sobs of a soul condemned.
"You look about twelve!" Julia flashed him an oblique look. "The idea! I'm nearly seventeen!" she said, with an uncertain little laugh. His ardent eyes embarrassed her. "Honest?" said Carter Hazzard, in a low, caressing tone. He laid his fingers on her arm. "What's your hurry?" he asked. "We ought to keep with the others," Julia stammered, scarlet cheeked but half laughing.
That was a terrifying time until Bele brought a doctor from the village. He was a good little doctor, round faced and pink cheeked, quite the youngest thing, save Bele, that Felicia had seen in many years. And he pulled the Major back to something like life a something that played chess very slowly and sometimes called Felicia Octavia and sometimes querulously murmured,
He made his way along, with his eye diligently heedful of the signs, and at last recognised the Winged Staff or caduceus of Hermes, over a stall where a couple of boys in blue caps and gowns and yellow stockings were making a purchase of a small, grave- looking, elderly but bright cheeked man, whose yellow hair and beard were getting intermingled with grey.
There was a blowsy cheeked bar-maid, Mother Conarty's daughter. She knew well how to handle with a few sharp, ironic remarks anyone who tried to "get fresh" with her ... and if she couldn't, there were plenty of husky sailormen about, hearty in their admiration for the resolute, clean girl, and ready with mauling fists. "Mother Conarty's proud o' that kid o' hers, she is." "And well she may be!"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking