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"Percy, you will do nothing rash, nothing foolhardy to-night. That man had planned all that took place yesterday. He hates you, and ..." In a moment his face and attitude had changed, the heavy lids drooped over the eyes, the rigidity of the mouth relaxed, and that quaint, half-shy, half-inane smile played around the firm lips.
It was as soul that he had appealed to the imagination of the world; even vulgar gossip had been silent about his body. But how this deformity must embitter his success. Mendelssohn coaxed him within, complimenting him profusely on his writings: he was only too familiar with these half-shy, half-aggressive young Poles, whose brains were bursting with heretical ideas and sick fantasies.
Masters, I should know better than ever attempt to dictate to you on any matter." Christopher gave him one of his rare half-shy, half-boyish smiles and leant forward over the big desk. "Mr. Clisson, I shall need your help and advice every hour of the day.
No half-shy "Can I walk home with you?" from Nap Ballou. No. Instead: "Hello, sweetheart!" "Hello, yourself." "Somebody's looking mighty pretty this evening, all dolled up in pink." "Think so?" She tried to be pertly indifferent, but it was good to have someone following, someone walking home with you. What if he was old enough to be her father, with graying hair?
The blood mounted to his face, his heart beat faster, and with a strange, half-shy sense of participating in some fine moment, his hand went up to his hat.
Beside her sat a young girl, white-clad, deliciously fresh in appearance, an expression of happy half-shy expectation upon her charming face. Behind them, in the shadow, kindly, handsome, debonnair, stood Lord Fallowfeild. His resemblance to the large and gentle lady declared them brother and sister. Poppy St. John watched the little party with a movement of tenderness.
As long as I live," she repeated very earnestly, "I shall remember that it was here that the door of paradise was opened to us at last, and that God meant us to enter in." She lifted her eyes to his with a look half-shy, half-confident. "You believe in God," she said. He did not answer at once. He was looking out beyond her for the first time, and the restless fire had gone out of his eyes.
Then his eyes looked up into the queer face of the girl who looked down at him. The sulkiness cleared away from his brow, and he said, in an eager, hurried, half-shy, half-confidential way, "I say, do you like rabbits?" "Dote on 'em," said Maggie. "Then I'm your man, and I don't mind being Peterkins to you; and will you will you come and see mine?
He had made but a step towards her, and had not even made a step in his mind towards reading the half-shy, half-appealing aspect she wore, when the prim figure of Aunt Rachel appeared from behind her, and the old woman, with defiance expressed in every line and gesture, laid her mit-tened hand on the girl's arm and advanced by her side.
No half-shy "Can I walk home with you?" from Nap Ballou. No. Instead: "Hello, sweetheart!" "Hello, yourself." "Somebody's looking mighty pretty this evening, all dolled up in pink." "Think so?" She tried to be pertly indifferent, but it was good to have someone following, someone walking home with you. What if he was old enough to be her father, with graying hair?
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