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Updated: June 2, 2025
It may readily be seen that a woman with the square, heavy-jawed face pictured by No. 5, should not adopt a straight, or nearly straight, bang, nor wear her hair low on her forehead, nor adjust the greater portion of her hair so that the coil cannot be seen above the crown of her head.
He was heavy-jawed, bull-necked, and the short, straight hair of the head seemed to her frightened eyes the stiff bristles on a hog's back. Here were coarseness and brutishness a thing savage, primordial, ferocious. He was swarthy to blackness, and his body was covered with a hairy growth that matted like a dog's on his chest and shoulders.
Leander was not naturally courageous, and what he had gone through lately had shaken his nerves. He thought that, for policemen, they showed too strong a personal feeling; but who else could they be? He could not remember having seen either of them before. One was a tall, burly, heavy-jawed man; the other smaller and slighter, and apparently the superior of the two in education and position.
Beyond, in a big hammock dyed with the symbolic scarlet and black and tasseled with many squirrel tails, sat a fat, small-eyed, heavy-jawed man whose elaborate feather dress and authoritative air proclaimed him chief. Beside him stood Rana and another subchief, lean and somber-faced. Behind this bulwark of tribal might huddled the women and children, staring wide-eyed.
The room was quiet save for an occasional word from the big man at the desk. The clerk drew a check from the cigar-box. A man stepped up to the desk, gave his name, age, occupation, and address, received the numbered check, and went to his seat. The clerk drew another check. A fat, broad-shouldered man waddled up, smiling. "Why, hello, Bud!" said the heavy-jawed man, rising and shaking hands.
Challoner was white-haired, straight, and spare, with aquiline features and piercing eyes; Greythorpe broad-shouldered and big, with a heavy-jawed, thoughtful face. They had been fast friends since they had met a number of years ago when Challoner was giving evidence before a parliamentary commission. "So you have not heard from Blake after the day he came here," Greythorpe said by and by.
Gower's cannery foreman and fish collectors gave him profane accounts of MacRae's indefatigable raiding, as it suited them to regard his operations. What Gower did not know he made it his business to find out. He sat now in his grass chair, a short, compact body of a man, with a heavy-jawed, powerful face frowning in abstraction. Gower looked younger than his fifty-six years.
He turned to the man on his right, a great, heavy-jawed Irishman with a bandaged knee, who was sound asleep. "Wake up, Pat," he says, "wake up till I tell you how we strafed Fritz. Out in the open it was, the Prussian Guards." But the Irishman slept on. Neither shaking nor shouting roused a sign of intelligence in him.
When it got three thousand, I was going to tell you, anyways. Is that enough, Harry, to do the Goldfinch-Goetz spectacle on your own hook? Is it, Harry?" He regarded her in a heavy-jawed kind of stupefaction. "Woman alive!" he said. "Great Heavens, woman alive!" "It's in the bank, waiting, Harry all for you." "Why, Millie, I I don't know what to say." "I want you to have it, Harry. It's yours.
Under the smoked-lantern light we looked at ours it was ten minutes to twelve! We heard them murmur to each other, but continued unhitching the horses, dragging the hastily assembled articles out of the wagon. Then my heart began to pound. One of the men walked over to us. He was short, burly, heavy-jawed. "Here, you can't stay here! Where do you think you are?" he demanded.
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