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Updated: May 5, 2025
She was often demure, but behind that demureness was firmness: she was mistress of herself, and yet possessed a marvellous vitality. "And now," said Cynthia, "don't you think you had better go?" Go! He laughed outright. Never! He would sit down under that fortress, and some day he meant to scale the walls. Like John Paul Jones, he had not yet begun to fight.
"So gay a presence," she said, "must, I fear me, a little disturb these learners." Hastings glanced at the prim demureness written on each blooming visage, and replied, "You wrong their ardour in such noble studies.
"I'll make it my business," said Aubrey, and shook his fist in the bookseller's face. "I've been trailing you, you scoundrel, and I want to know what kind of a game you're playing." A spot of red spread on Roger's cheekbones. In spite of his apparent demureness he had a pugnacious spirit and a quick fist. "By the bones of Charles Lamb!" he said. "Young man, your manners need mending.
"You are no gentleman, Mr. Riley, to speak to a lady like that," she said, severely. "You may go now." "Will ye be th' good gurl if I lave ye by yersel'?" "How do I know if it's all out of me?" "Shure, it oughter be," he declared, in despair. "Will ye thry?" "Certainly, I'll try." Patricia was demureness itself.
Millard in the shop." There was a twinkle of mischief in Norah's demureness. Mrs. Millard bowed distantly. "I am going to settle this here and now," Miss Sarah whispered to Mrs. Russell as Norah crossed the room to the sofa where Alex sat.
Bertha, after her first, petulant outbreak, had also ceased to press Madeleine on the subject of her possible marriage, and with meek demureness reconciled herself to the uncertainty of the future, and the certainty of tormenting her lover in the present. M. de Bois's devotion to Madeleine sealed his lips. Madeleine had formed a resolution which she declared unalterable.
She could, at times, be surprisingly demure. These impressions of her daintiness and demureness are particularly vivid in a picture my memory has retained of our walking together, unattended, to Susan Blackwood's birthday party. She must have been about twelve years old. It was the first time I had escorted her or any other girl to a party; Mrs.
Lady Loudwater lost her smiling air; she became demureness itself, and she said: "Well, you see thanks to Egbert's vile temper we have so few friends." Grey frowned; she was always quick to elude him. Then he growled: "What a name! Egbert!" "He can't help that. It was given him. Besides, it's a family name," she said in a tone of fine impartiality. "It would be. Hogbert!" said Grey contemptuously.
I bowed my acknowledgments, and took occasion as I did so to step a pace aside, so as to command a view of Madame de Bruhl, as well as her husband. Hitherto madame, willing to be accounted a part in so pretty a romance, and ready enough also, unless I was mistaken, to cause her husband a little mild jealousy, had listened to the story with a certain sly demureness.
After my companion had amused himself with a brief flirtation with a young lady who affected a most edifying demureness, we left the Exchange, and repaired to the puppet-show.
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