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The sky was bright blue, the wind gusty out of the northwest. Oliver squinted at the fresh snowbanks on his way to Becky's. Sunglasses should have worn sunglasses. He had oatmeal and a blueberry muffin, drank coffee, and listened to the waitresses chatter about their dates. Francesca did not come in, but her image remained vivid.
Monk squinted sidelong at Pinker and rubbed his hands together like a large ape. "'E ain't got no girl," shrilled Pinker. "Monk ain't got no girl. You don' know what a girl is, do yer, Monk?" Although they do much more to help each other than I ever saw done in the officers' ward, yet one is always saying things that I find myself praying the other hasn't heard.
He climbed to the top of the rock, and placing his compass in a level position, permitted the needle to swing to a stationary position. He extracted a match from the tin box in his pocket and laid it upon the compass dial exactly parallel with the needle. Lying on his face, he squinted his eye along the match to a distant tree.
I'm to be the new president of that road." "That wooden axle outfit?" Martin squinted. "Sure, Mr. Barstow, I'm not knockin' the new deal, or " "Never mind that." Lemuel C. Barstow smiled genially. "That's where your part of the job comes in. That's why I need you. But we'll let that go for the present.
No one answered him. Leclair lighted a cigarette, and silently squinted at Africa with eyes long inured to the sun of that land of flame. Alden, at the other window, kept silence, too. That masked face could express no emotion; but something in the sag of the woman's shoulders, the droop of her head, showed how profound and intense was her suffering.
"My dear Cousin Ruth," I said, on purpose to vex Master Cockram, because he eyed us so heavily, and squinted to unluckily, "we have long been looking for you at our Plover's Barrows farm. You remember how you used to love hunting for eggs in the morning, and hiding up in the tallat with Lizzie, for me to seek you among the hay, when the sun was down.
He saw Joe Pollard lie back in his chair with squinted eyes and run over a swift description of the country through which the trail of the money would lead. The leader knew every inch of the mountains, it seemed. His memory was better than a map; in it was jotted down every fallen log, every boulder, it seemed.
He squinted up the crack in the ledge, made certain mental alterations in its narrow, jagged walls, and reached for the tough-handled, efficient prospector's pick he had thoughtfully included in his meagre equipment. Slowly and methodically he worked up the crevice, knocking off certain sharp points of rock, and knowing all the while what would probably happen to him if he were overheard.
She squinted up, saw her mother and father, Charlotte and Jan, then remembered that she was lost and shut her eyes quickly. Jan touched her cheek with his nose, and licked her face. She could not keep still any longer, because she wanted to sneeze and that would spoil the whole game.
The hunchback set his two fingers against his teeth and whistled like a hawk, a long, shrill, hissing whistle that startled the little partridges on the sloping hillside and sent them scurrying under the dead grass, and brought the drumming pheasant to his feathered legs. Then he threw his chin into the air and squinted.
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