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Again, there was a painful silence, in which Sadie fidgeted and Mrs. Schmidt seemed to grow more shrunken and faded than before. Mrs. McMahon alone stood unmovingly erect, stiffly pugnacious on the instant. "So, that's it!" she exclaimed, at last. Her big voice was raucous with anger. "Sure, then, and we're not members, at all!"
But whenever Constance turned her glance to Godolphin, she saw those large, searching, melancholy eyes, whose power she well recalled, fixed unmovingly on her, as seeking to read in her cheek the history of the years which had ripened its beauties for another. "Good Heavens! Constance Vernon once more free!" "And did you not really know it? Your retreat by the lake must have been indeed seclusion.
Leaning against the counter at one corner, and fixing his eyes deliberately and unmovingly upon us, was a man about the age of fifty, dressed in a costume of singular fashion, apparently pretending to an antiquity of taste, correspondent with that of the material.
She struggled to command herself. 'It was at my invitation that he wrote, father. Martin's face expressed grave concern. 'Sidwell! Is this right? She was very pale, and kept her eyes unmovingly directed just aside from her father. 'What can it mean? Mr. Warricombe pursued, with sad remonstrance. 'Will you not take me into your confidence, Sidwell?
A cold, indefinite sensation stole over him that he was being watched; that some dim, evil presence was behind him biding its time, patient and stealthy, with eyes fixed unmovingly on him where he stood. But, watch and wait as silently as he might, only the day broadened at the window, and at last a narrow ray of sunlight stole trembling up into the dusky bowl of the sky.
President Woodruff sat at the head of a bare walnut table in a chair so large that it rather dwarfed him; and he sank down in it, to an attitude of nervous reluctance to speak, occupied with his hands. My father assumed his inevitable composure firmly and almost unmovingly seated and looked at me squarely with a not unkind premonition of a smile. President Woodruff continued silent.
Leaning against the counter at one corner, and fixing his eyes deliberately and unmovingly upon us, was a man about the age of fifty, dressed in a costume of singular fashion, apparently pretending to an antiquity of taste, correspondent with that of the material.
But whenever Constance turned her glance to Godolphin, she saw those large, searching, melancholy eyes, whose power she well recalled, fixed unmovingly on her, as seeking to read in her cheek the history of the years which had ripened its beauties for another. "Good Heavens! Constance Vernon once more free!" "And did you not really know it? Your retreat by the lake must have been indeed seclusion.
By chance she did open them at the moment quite slowly. They were dark liquid brown and seemed to be all lustrous iris which gazed unmovingly at the object in of focus. That object was the Head of the House of Coombe. "She is staring at me. There is antipathy in her gaze," he said, and stared back unmovingly also, but with a sort of cold interest.
How dare you!" "Ah!" The long, dark eyes regarded her unmovingly. "But who are you?" "I am Lady Rourke. Open the door. You shall bitterly regret this outrage." "You are Lady Rourke?" the man repeated. "Before you speak of regrets, answer the question which I have asked: Who brought you here?" "Lou Chada." "Ah!"
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