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As the morning advanced, numerous maid-servants, trim, arch-looking damsels, with small neatly-shod feet, basket on arm, and shading their complexion from the increasing heat of the sun under cotton parasols of ample dimensions, tripped along between the rows of sellers, pausing here and there to bargain for fruit or fowl, and affecting not to hear the remarks of the soldiers, who lounged in their neighbourhood, and expressed their admiration by exclamations less choice than complimentary.
The sleeves of her pink cotton jacket, pushed up above the elbows, showed her white, dimpled arms; while her blue skirt or petticoat was short enough to reveal the neatly-shod feet, with their bows of black ribbon on the instep. Every house in the neighbourhood was busy with preparations of some sort. At the farmhouses the women had been engaged for days with their cooking.
Grave, taciturn, watchful, secret and suave, with an appearance of tight-lipped reticence about him which a perpetual faint questioning look in his eyes denied, Hill looked an ideal man servant, who knew his station in life, and was able to uphold it with meek dignity. From the top of his trimly-cut grey crown to his neatly-shod silent feet he exuded deference and respectability.
In the room overhead, standing by the window with weary eyes, Dora was murmuring: "I wonder I wonder if I shall be able to hold out against them all." Across the years you seem to come. "That is just what I can't do. I cannot afford to wait." Arthur Agar drew in his neatly-shod little feet, and leant back in the deep chair which was always set aside as his in the Stagholme drawing-room.
You see, the sale of the house and furniture will enable me to take a good room on the first floor. I have no doubt I shall be all right there" she paused "as right as I can be now, that is to say," she added, her lip trembling. During the silence which followed, the three girls passed once more heads erect and neatly-shod feet stepping lightly on the hard path. Mrs.
"I don't want to bother you; but really it's about time we were moving." "I come, I come," Madame de Vallorbes cried, in answer. She put one neatly-shod foot on the axle, and stepped up Richard holding out his hand to steady her. A sense, at once pleasurable and defiant, of something akin to ownership, came over him as he did so.
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