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Updated: May 7, 2025
The day after Phillida's last visit she sent her a check for three hundred dollars for her services." "Sent her money?" said Millard, reddening, and contracting his brows. "Did Phillida take it?" This last was spoken in a low-keyed monotone. "Hasn't she told you a word about it?" "Not a word," said Millard, with eyes cast down.
Thurston thanked Park mentally; tending branding-fire sounded very much like child's play. Soon the gray dust-cloud took on a shade of blue in places where the smoke from the fires cut through; a new tang smote the nostrils: the rank odor of burning hair and searing hides; a new note crept into the clamoring roar: the low-keyed blat of pain and fright.
Darkness falls late on the Black Rim country in midsummer. It was just deepening from dusk when Lance rode up to the corral gate, pulled the saddle and bridle off Sorry with swift jerks that bespoke a haste born of high nervous tension, and strode up to the house. From the bunk house, when he passed, came the murmur of low-keyed voices. The outfit, then, was at home once more.
Far away was heard a continuous, steady, low-keyed, advancing hum, like the rushing of wild horses, their hoofbeats lost in one mighty, throbbing, tumultuous roar; then a deeper darkness fell upon the scene, and swift as the swoop of an eagle the tornado was upon them. The advancing wall of rain struck the building with terrific force. The lightning broke forth, savage as the roar of siege-guns.
He seemed to find in the songs of these people, and especially in a wild, sweet, low-keyed Negro song, some expression for his indefinable inner melancholy. He played on, forgetful of everybody, his long beard sweeping the violin, his toilworn hands marvelously obedient to his will.
I passed some little distance within the confines of the forest, and was soon put upon my guard by the approaching tramp of horses' feet, and then, low-keyed voices, and in very truth I thought my lady was come; instead, three horsemen came within a few feet of my hiding and one said, 'We are even now hard by the Castle courtyard; 'tis possible the lackeys are waiting for the beauty who is perchance now started from the monastery.
Eve de Montalais laughed the charming, low-keyed laugh of a happily diverted woman. "But spare yourself, monsieur. I surrender at discretion: I will do as you wish." "Truly? Rather than listen to my discourse, you actually agree to remove your jewels to a safe place?" "Even so, monsieur.
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