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His pulse, which was usually low, quickened, and his lips were tightly compressed; he shrank from the contents with a jealous pang; as a light quivers strugglingly in a noxious vault, love descended into that hideous breast, gleamed upon dreary horrors, and warred with the noxious atmosphere: but it shone still.
His pulse, which was usually low, quickened, and his lips were tightly compressed; he shrank from the contents with a jealous pang; as a light quivers strugglingly in a noxious vault, love descended into that hideous breast, gleamed upon dreary horrors, and warred with the noxious atmosphere: but it shone still.
And Jerry, far-journeyer across life and across the history of all life that goes to make the world, strugglingly mastering the abysmal slime of the prehistoric with the love that had come into existence and had become warp and woof of him in far later time, his wrath of ancientness still faintly reverberating in his throat like the rumblings of a passing thunder-storm, knew, in the wide warm ways of feeling, the augustness and righteousness of Skipper.
I was the only one from Goulburn in that carriage; all the other passengers had been in some time and were asleep. One or two opened their eyes strugglingly, stared glumly at the intruder, and then went to sleep again. The motion of the train was a joy to me, and sleep never entered my head.
They dropped on their knees. The next instant a swarm of savage little red men surrounded them, and rudely bore them, strugglingly, back into the hut. "Come on!" cried Tom, about to leap to the ground. "It's now or never! We must save them!" Mr. Durban pulled him back, and pointed to a horde of the red-haired savages rushing toward the airship.
While we were busily employed in gathering these, a rustling in the bushes alarmed us, and we were upon the point of stealing back to our covert, when a large black bird of the bittern species strugglingly and slowly arose above the shrubs.
Helen had the look of one who strugglingly overcomes a paroxysm of anger. She stood up. "Would you leave me alone for a little, Irene? I'm not quite able to talk. I think we've both of us been doing too much overtaxing ourselves. It has got on my nerves." "Yes I will go," was the answer, spoken very quietly. "And to-morrow morning I will return to London." She moved away. "Irene!" "Yes ?"
They were not evolved out of other ideas, nor gathered up from obvious sources and repeated by her brain, parrotlike, as with so many of us. They came to her slowly from some reservoir of her being, came painfully, strugglingly, and often were accompanied to their birth by an inner glow of emotional illumination like the present when she saw herself and her child living the life of Clark's Field.
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