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Updated: May 20, 2025
He continued to stand, motionless, after he had been seen. Annie cried out again and, almost dropping her tumbler on to the table, rushed from the room, knocking against the door-frame in her blundering way as she went. The others stood bewildered a moment, not taking it in, not recognising the bearded figure that stayed motionless, itself giving no sign of recognition.
His shadow across the threshold heralded his reluctant coming, and Dryad turned from the half-filled box upon the table over which she had been bending and nodded to him almost before he caught sight of her. That little, intimately brief inclination of the head was her only greeting. With hands grasping each side of the door-frame Old Jerry stood there and gazed about the room.
Douglas rode up to the cabin and, dismounting, knocked at the door. It was opened by Elijah Nelson, his big bulk silhouetted in the door-frame. "Good-evening!" said Douglas. "Good-evening!" returned the Mormon. "Did Judith Spencer come through this way?" Nelson shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care to hold converse with any one from Lost Chief." Douglas moistened his wind-fevered lips.
They didn't say anything to that, it seemed such a dreadful question to have to answer, and luckily he didn't repeat it, but, having got to the door they had been searching for, opened it and stepped into the bright light inside, and putting out his arm behind him pulled them in one after the other over the high wooden door-frame.
She would not lie down tamely and be trampled upon by malicious mischance. She would not ... Mrs. Heth, just risen from her refreshing nap, heard the sounds of arrival in the adjoining room and opened the door between. Then she leaned back against the door-frame, her ladylike eyes starting from her head. "Carlisle!... Oh, merciful heavens! What? What on earth's happened?"
"Stupid people! Foolish people! I don't want either your friendship or your medicines, stupid man! Vulgar! Nasty!" Hobotov and Mihail Averyanitch, looking at each other in bewilderment, staggered to the door and went out. Andrey Yefimitch snatched up the bottle of bromide and flung it after them; the bottle broke with a crash on the door-frame.
"Come on, then," said Nathan, stepping outside the door, and holding tightly to the door-frame with one hand and reaching the other toward Faith. "Hold tight to my hand and don't look down," he said. "Look to the right as you step out, and you'll see a chance for your feet. I've got a tight hold. You can't fall." Faith clutched his hand and stepped out.
I'm supposed to be 'slowly improving." There was something fine and hawklike in the young fellow's profile as he stood negligently leaning on the door-frame, his eyes on the flushed face of the girl; and Serviss experienced another pang of jealous pain they were so young, so comely, so full of the fire and imagination of youth. At the moment his own fame and special tasks were of small account.
The royal tombs are put under the charge of special officers, who occupy huts erected over them. The umbilical cords are preserved from birth, and, at death, those of men are placed within the door-frame, whilst those of women are buried without this last act corresponding, according to Bombay, with the custom of the Wahiyow.
As fate would have it, there was some black paint left over; and to Corydon's horror it was announced that this would be used on the study. However, Thyrsis insisted that it was his study; and besides, there was some red paint left, with which he might decorate the window and the door-frame, and stripe the edges of the roof and the corners.
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