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'He's started a nightmare, said I. 'I wish we could help him to better dreams. I'd like to see what he sees just now. Drayton began to drone from his side of the fire: 'I saw pale kings and princes, too; Pale warriors death-pale were they all. They cried, "La Belle Dame sans Merci" hath thee in thrall.
Like shining ebony, her black hair framed a death-pale face. The darkness of a new grief had deepened the shade in the mysterious eyes. For an instant she paused on the edge of tears. "I don't want to go back with Pappy Lon!" she whispered. Everett caught his breath. She was even more lovely than he had remembered. Inwardly he cursed the squatters.
Emily rose with a shriek. 'My love hush! hush! said her mother. 'It's only the clock-weight fallen. How that does shake my nerves! It did it only last week, and gave me such a start. Grasping her mother's hand, the girl lay back, death-pale. The silence was deeper than before, for not even the clock ticked.... Dagworthy could not sleep.
He advanced a few paces into the room, then stood still. His eyes wandered from his father's death-pale face to the downcast countenance of the old serving-man. Surprised and distressed, he wondered what it could mean. His mother had been confined to her chamber for some days with a serious attack of lung disease.
Suddenly I felt something like compassion that this music should never sound from off the death-pale paper. Two words I wrote to Liszt; the answer was that preparation was being made for the performance on the grandest scale which the limited means of Weimar permitted.
When it was told him that she had ceased to breathe, he rose and went into his own chamber, death-pale, but tearless. On the day after the funeral Monica was buried in the cemetery, which is hard by the old church Widdowson and the elder sister had a long conversation in private. It related first of all to the motherless baby.
He caught it with one arm, set down the light, raised its head, and in the wild, worn, death-pale features and wandering eyes, knew the face of his son. He uttered one wailing groan, which seemed to spend his life, gathered him to his bosom, and taking him up like a child, almost ran to the house with him. As he went he heard at his ear the murmured word, "Father, I have sinned not worthy "
She behaved like a mad woman, certainly." Are you ill, my son?" Richard was death-pale, his strong form smitten through with weakness. The baronet sought Adrian's eye. Adrian had seen Lucy as they passed, and he had a glimpse of Richard's countenance while disposing of Berry. Had Lucy recognized them, he would have gone to her unhesitatingly.
As Raphael's death-pale face showed itself in the doorway, a sudden outcry broke out, as vehement as the blaze of this improvised banquet. The voices, perfumes, and lights, the exquisite beauty of the women, produced their effect upon his senses, and awakened his desires.
He was pale as ashes, all trembling, out of breath, for he'd run up the hill. And he came to the bedside, but Mitch was dreaming again, drifting and dreaming, and talking about boats, about money, about Hamlet, about treasure, about pale kings and warriors and death-pale princes. But pretty soon he says, "Where's my pa? Is he never comin'?" "I'm here," said Mr. Miller.
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