Spalding, who was accustomed to talk while standing, leaned against the desk, feet crossed, brows furrowed. As he talked, he emphasized his remarks by jabbing the air with his pencil. "Well," said Emma quietly, "it didn't go." "It didn't even start," corrected Spalding. "But why?" demanded Buck. "Why?" Spalding leaned forward a little, eagerly.
The man staggered back, clapping a hand to his head, where, it seemed to him, the bullet from the pistol had been aimed. The man brought up against the rear wall of the cabin, beside the fireplace; and he leaned against it, his face ghastly with fright, his lips working soundlessly. The little man cowered, plainly expecting Lawler would shoot him, too.
I see nothing very strange about a scratch," said Greene, in an unconvincing sort of voice. "It was your cuff links probably. Last night in your excitement " But Marriott, white to the very lips, was trying to speak. The sweat stood in great beads on his forehead. At last he leaned forward close to his friend's face. "Look," he said, in a low voice that shook a little. "Do you see that red mark?
"Five and thirty years never dropped anything. And what you can do is only child's play to some jobs I have had on my hands understand that great man as you are, Captain Lingard of the Lightning. . . . You should have seen the Wild Rose," he added with a sudden break in his voice. Lingard leaned over the guard-rail of the pier. Jorgenson came closer.
In my enthusiasm I stood up, I pressed forward, I leaned far over towards the stage, that I might not lose a word, a look, a gesture. When the act finished, as the curtain fell, and the thunders of applause died away, I heard a soft low sigh near me; I looked, and saw the Jewess!
She leaned her head against the open shoji and looked out into the garden, radiant and beautiful in the high noon of a perfect autumn day. The working world paused in a brief sleep and the music of the garden was hushed, while the insects sought the shadow of green leaves. Peace was within and without, save in the girl's awakening heart. "Ah, Sensei," she murmured through her trembling lips.
"That's what I said," Abe went on. "He made it a big failure and skipped to the old country." "You don't tell me!" Feigenbaum said. "Why, I used to buy it all my goods from Rifkin." Abe leaned forward and placed his hand on Feigenbaum's knees. "I know it," he murmured, "and oncet you used to buy it all your goods from us, Mr. Feigenbaum. I assure you, Mr.
I leaned my elbows despondently on the shelf of the kitchen pantry, with the feet of a guard visible through the high window over my head, and waited for Mr. Harbison to come in and demand that I fold a raw egg, and discover that I didn't know anything about cooking, and was just as useless as all the others. He came. He held the bowl out to me and waved a fork in triumph.
"Certainly not never thought of it for a moment." "Oh, dear, I must have made another mistake. Forgive me." She lay back on her cushions. "Marie, when I get married, it's you I want for my wife. I have told you that before, and I haven't changed my mind. You shall be mine, if you will come back to the sweet days of long ago. Will you?" He leaned over the couch, and she drew his face to hers.
There was a weirdness in not being able to see her. Suddenly all was still. She had stopped, but so close to them that the steam, blowing off, sent its rumbling vibration right over their heads. "They are trying to make out where they are," said Decoud in a whisper. Again he leaned over and put his fingers into the water. "We are moving quite smartly," he informed Nostromo.