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Updated: June 22, 2025
Dunwody's frown was unmistakable enough, when he saw the three grouped outside, the two prisoners armed. "There's been plotting here!" he cried. "What's up? Get your arms, men! Cover them, quick!" "Wait!" said Carlisle quietly. "We're armed, and we've got you covered." His weapon and that of Kammerer shone gray in the half light. Dunwody threw himself against the doorpost with a growl of anger.
On examination, a bullet-hole was found in the doorpost, and another, nearly opposite, in the casing of the window. The Colonel called attention to the fact that the one "agreed with" the bore of Scott's revolver, and the other with that of York's derringer. "They must hev stood about yer," said the Colonel, taking position; "not mor'n three feet apart, and missed!"
Then a voice sounded loud and near, and there was a general movement in the room as all rose to their feet. The door swung open and the Garter King-at-Arms came through, bland and smiling, his puffed silk sleeves brushing against the doorpost as he passed. A face like a mask, smooth and expressionless, followed him, and nodded to the Archbishop.
And I measured myself against the doorpost, and found that I was very big. I thought I must be almost as big as you, but I s'pose I'd forgotten how big you were. So I went up, and opened one box, and I was just putting the dress on when you came in. You knew where it came from, of course, Daddy, the moment you saw it." The Captain nodded gravely, and pulled his long moustaches.
The weather had changed again, and a soft southerly wind was blowing the spray of the fountain half across the piazza. Corona paused, her graceful figure half leaning against the stone doorpost of the church, her hand upon the heavy leathern curtain in the act to lift it; and as she stood there, a desperate temptation assailed her.
As he leaned in the doorpost, waiting for the flowers, he had a penetrating sense of Margaret Aubyn's nearness not the imponderable presence of his inner vision, but a life that beat warm in his arms.... The sharp air caught him as he stepped out into it again. He walked back and scattered the flowers over the grave.
After that it was the dominie's custom, on seeing the room cleared, to send in a smart boy a dux was always chosen who wedged a clod of earth or peat between doorpost and door. Thus the school was locked up for the night. The boy came out by the window, where he entered to open the door next morning.
A door opened to the right, and an emaciated sallow man on crutches, barefoot and in underclothing, limped out and, leaning against the doorpost, looked with glittering envious eyes at those who were passing. Glancing in at the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded were lying on the floor on straw and overcoats. "May I go in and look?" "What is there to see?" said the assistant.
She added, moving away, that now she had saved them she must really go. "To save them for what, if I mayn't break the seals?" Baron asked. "I don't know for a generous sacrifice." "Why should it be generous? What's at stake?" Peter demanded, leaning against the doorpost as she stood on the landing. "I don't know what, but I feel as if something or other were in peril.
It is a large place, and the tenants come and go " "Quite so," he said, blandly. "I lived in the Temple for several years, and did not know the name of the man on the floor below me, because the name was not painted on the doorpost. London is a city of strangers. Yes, yes.
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