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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Rather slender, with brown hair, sorter coppery in the sun, and grey eyes that grow dark when she's interested. About twenty-three or four, I should say. She's a good-looker, all right; and not a bit stuck up." "Did you get her full name?" "Sure; it's on the register Stella Donovan." Enright lowered his feet to the floor, a puzzled look un his face, his teeth clinched on his cigar.
She ain't the only pebble on the beach even as a good-looker." "She can't take him if she don't love him, however," said Jack. But Mrs. Cobley didn't set much store on that. "Oh, yes, she could," the old woman replied. "Where there's respect, love often follows. And there's Jane to be remembered.
While we were hanging up the quarters of beef on some pegs on the north side of the cabin, Edwards said, whispering, "Jack must have pictured this claim mighty hifalutin to that gal, for she's a way up good-looker. Another thing, watch me build to the one inside with the black eyes. I claimed her first, remember. As soon as we get this beef hung up I'm going in and sidle up to her."
Scott, who had been wandering around his sister's room with innate masculine curiosity concerning the mysteries of intimate femininity, came upon a sketch of Duane's the colour not entirely dry yet. "It's Sis!" he exclaimed in unfeigned approval. "Lord, but you've made her a good-looker, Duane. Does she really appear like that to you?" "And then some," said Duane. "Keep your fingers off it."
"Why didn't you lay low, and not go butting down their door? Why didn't you lose the old man and snub up one of the girls marry her? Big one's a rip-snortin' beauty; pert, by jingo! as a prairie-dog." "She'd send me a-flyin'," urged Matthews. "But th' little one " "Sure! You're a good-looker handsome. If you'd fix yourself up some." "If I could git rid of the old man! If I could!
But when a woman, young, a good-looker, an' eddicated, an' refined, gits grabbin', why, it makes you see sulphur an' brimstone, an' horns an' hoofs when your thoughts are full o' buzzin' white wings an' harps, an' halos an' things. Git me? I guess stealin' dollars out o' a citizen's pocket-book wouldn't be a circumstance to a female of that nature.
She would be disturbed by no particular apprehensions, so long as Pete adored her as he now said he did. She did not feel like a bad woman. To her knowledge she had never seen any better. At times men at other tables regarded the girl furtively. Pete, aware of it, nodded at her and grinned. He felt proud. "Mag, yer a bloomin' good-looker," he remarked, studying her face through the haze.
Little thing like that did n't faze Gene none, if he did have a white wife a blamed good-looker she was too. She was out here onc't, three years ago, 'bout a week maybe. Course she did n't know nothin' 'bout the squaw, an' the Injuns was all huntin' down in the Wichitas.
"Mannechka, sweetie, dearie," says Pasha lightly touching Manya's hand with emotion, "tell my fortune, my precious little child." "We-ell," Manya pouts her lips just like a child, "let's play a little more." "Mannechka, my little beauty, you little good-looker, my precious, my own, my dear..." Manya gives in and lays out the pack on her knees.
You ask any one you like, and I'll call for you at six." "Lovely! Don't you really care whom I ask?" "Pick out a good-looker," called Will, striding off to meet Dorothy. Betty had no trouble in choosing the third person to make up the dinner party. It should be Eleanor Watson, of course. Will would like her men always did.
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