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Updated: June 23, 2025
At the end of that time he seemed to have accustomed himself to our ideas of decoration. He had, in our week's deluging, cleaned up the lamps of the chandeliers, brushed down the cobwebs, and removed some half-dozen baskets of faded and dust-laden paper flowers.
The magicians of the East work wonders in the strange atmosphere of that strange country, whose very air is heavy with magic. Yet England, too, has her magicians. London holds in the arms of its yellow fogs and dust-laden clouds miracles.
I left him there amid the roar of the fire and the odour of sizzling hoofs, and wended my way slowly up the dust-laden hill, back home, having forgotten entirely, in the great sorrow that had fallen, to tell Jim my object in calling on him that day. Viscount Harry, Captain of the Guards
Dr. Goodnow's method is simplicity itself. In order to prove the superiority of Monarchism over Republicanism and thus deliberately ignoring the moral of the present cataclysmic war he ransacks the dust-laden centuries.
And, though God turned the poisoned, dust-laden waters of Samuel Rutherford's life into very milk and wine, yet to Rutherford's subtle and detective taste there was always a certain tang of the unclean and accursed thing in it.
They found a light switch, but the bulbs were so dust-coated that only a faint glow shed on the surrounding metal. They sneezed and coughed, as the dust-laden air filled their lungs. "Darned if you don't get the craziest ideas, Dick. What good will it do to know how much 'ship juice' there is, anyway? We can't make it! This hole wasn't built for self-respecting men to crawl through."
A few hours before I had undoubtedly fallen in the estimation of the stolid constable when, instead of asking him questions regarding the tragedy, I had inquired the position of the wine cellar, and obtained possession of the key that opened its portal. The sight of bin after bin of dust-laden, cobwebbed bottles, did more than anything else to reconcile me to my lonely vigil.
She paused a moment, then continued: "To me, the home seems like one of the old-time temples; a place to be kept sacred to peace and purity and love; from which the sin and strife of the outside world should be faithfully excluded; whose inmates, on entering, should leave behind all traces of the evil and discord of the outer world, as the Oriental leaves his dust-laden sandals at the door of his sanctuary."
She walked with short, uncertain steps and leaned against the ragged edge of the wall, with one arm along its stone for support. Her face was white and drawn, and for a moment she closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the dust-laden air. The fat private on the stone, a score of feet away, studied her approvingly. She was slight of form and her hair beneath the cap was of gold, a little tarnished.
The nights were dreadful with a drying, dust-laden wind, and the days with destroying brilliance. At length one mid-day, the dog could go no further. He sat down upon his haunches and looked at her, his tail brushing the sand eyes melting with love for her. She put her hand upon his head, and the dry tongue touched her fingers.... She must leave him.
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