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It seemed an eternity till the door was grudgingly opened and a white-faced, gruff boy asked unrecognizingly what she wanted. Patricia put her questions tremblingly, for she feared the stern, strange face of the boy in knickerbockers. She had seen him playing and shouting in the square on other days, and the change was so great that she felt death alone could have wrought it.
He knew neither, but there was the chance that the one he was to meet knew him. And so he adventured it, walking slowly toward them, and taking care that they should notice him. They did. Mrs. Winton glanced at him casually and impersonally. The unknown, whose face was from him, turned sharply when he dropped his stick, and looked at him unrecognizingly.
She regarded him almost unrecognizingly, gathered herself mechanically together, uttered an absent-minded commonplace or so, and left the room. Despite his vexation and hurt, Graham tried to think it mere artist-dreaming on her part, a listening to the echo of the just-played music in her soul.
Away from the new life that had been planned for some one else which she must live now. She must always be a woman, never a girl any more. Out past Granny McVane’s they drove, the old lady sitting upon her front porch knitting endless stockings. She stared mildly, unrecognizingly at Marcia and paused in her rocking to crane her neck after the coach.
I could not forego the claims of early friendship, and estrange myself from those who have endeared themselves to me by long years of care nor pass coldly and unrecognizingly by playmates and acquaintances, because their complexions were a few shades darker than my own.
The girl shuddered, but remained firm. "No; we're 'most home." She felt no shame, but a certain exaltation, as she looked into the curious faces she saw in groups on the sidewalk. The boys who ran alongside wore in their faces a look of awe, for they imagined themselves in the presence of death. Maud gazed unrecognizingly upon her nearest girl friends.
"I'm bleeding yet; I'm soaking you; let me get up!" The girl shuddered, but remained firm. "No; we're 'most home." She felt no shame, but a certain exaltation as she looked into the faces about her. She gazed unrecognizingly upon her nearest girl friends, and they, gazing upon her white face and unresponsive eyes, spoke in awed whispers.
The country got rougher and wilder; the distant hills were losing their clear-cut, rolling outlines, and becoming neighbours and obstacles. The horses were thrashed unmercifully, but at times even the well-plied whip could get no more than a crawl out of them. The sergeant's end was at hand. He rallied, as men commonly do before they put foot in the black river, and looked at me unrecognizingly.
With an almost superhuman effort she pushed her sharp little chin across the confining edge of the blanket. Vaguely, unrecognizingly then, for the first time, her heavy eyes sensed the hotel proprietor's presence and worried their way across the tearful ladies to Barton's harrowed face. "Mother was a rose," she began all over again. "Mother was a rose. Mother was a rose," she persisted babblingly.
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