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Updated: May 29, 2025
She believed herself to be alone, but turned around suddenly at the sound of footsteps, and found herself face to face with Madeleine, who was pale and swollen-eyed with weeping. "You must obey this man, aunt," she quietly said. Adjoining the parlor was a little card-room separated only by a heavy silk curtain, instead of a door.
Lucy, pale and swollen-eyed, was rocking the baby before the little gas grate, with her back that way, the child with wide, wakeful eyes gazing solemnly up into her suffering face, trying vainly to puzzle out the situation. Babette, a pretty girl with a rose and lily face, was soothing Rufie and Tilly near by, while Mrs.
Phillips' residence, and inquire in person for his son, instead of returning to the store and sending a message, as he had at first intended. A flushed-faced, swollen-eyed servant answered his ring, and to his inquiry as to how Mr. Phillips was, answered: "Well, sir, he's doing the best he can." "Can I see him?" asked Theodore, wondering at the strangeness of the answer. "I guess so or I'll see.
He had offered a marriage that was not a marriage, but he was a man, and human. He did not want her now, but in the end he would want her; young as she was she knew already the strength of a woman's physical hold on a man. Late on the afternoon of the third day Ellen came again, a swollen-eyed Ellen, dressed in black with black cotton gloves, and a black veil around her hat.
Barclay mentally invoked the face of his former friend, as he had seen it on the occasion of their last meeting, flushed, swollen-eyed, insolent, the fine patrician mouth hideously contorted and maundering insults, filth, banality. "And I did it!" the girl was saying. "Don't forget that, John. Unwittingly, ignorantly, helplessly, if you will, I did it, just the same.
"And may I sit in your library and write articles if I will be very still and not get mud on me? They throwed mud on me once, papa." Poor little swollen-eyed Davy! Yet richer than almost any other living thing in Chicago. None knew him but to love him. "I didn't think it would hit him," said even the barbarian who shied the clod at Davy.
He sat swinging his leg. The snatch of uncomfortable sleep had left him pale and swollen-eyed, and his hair was tumbled. "Who was there to-night?" "Several new people. Amedee Silvenoire the dramatist, you know; an interesting man. He paid me the compliment of refraining from compliments on my French.
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