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Updated: June 1, 2025
It's the only way, if you want to turn a heartless little flirt like me into into a virtuous and amiable wife!" And so, clinging to him, her lips met his in the first kiss that had ever passed between them. Those Who Wait A faint draught from the hills found its way through the wide-flung door as the sun went down.
It's hell!" He stopped, breathless. "Why don't you quit?" suggested Anthony. "Quit! What for? Good Lord! We LIKE it. Here we are at Pedro Miguel, by-the-way. We'll be into the Cut shortly." To his left Anthony beheld another scene somewhat similar to the one at Gatun. Other movable steel cranes, with huge wide-flung arms, rose out of another chasm in which were extensive concrete workings.
He was gone again, and Bertie was left to give his message, and then to wait in anguish of spirit for the final call. The night was still. Only the draught from the wide-flung doors and windows stirred through the quiet rooms. Mrs. Errol and Anne shared Bertie's vigil in the room that opened out of that in which Lucas Errol was making his last stand.
But he was not hungry, neither was he querulous. There were worse ways of travel than even by a slow and dusty train. And in his wide-flung, rock-strewn diocese the Bishop had found plenty of them. He was never one to complain.
Give me the history of one of your freighting trips and what befell along the trail; and don't forget the comment thereon wise, doubtless, it was of your long-eared servants of the rein and trace-chain." "Tell you what chances along the trail? Son, you-all opens a wide-flung range for my mem'ry to graze over.
There were books and papers about, a piano in the corner. A door at the further end led into what seemed to be a sleeping-apartment. Quest drew up an easy-chair to the wide-flung window, touching a bell as he crossed the room. In a few moments the door was opened and closed noiselessly. A young woman entered with a little bundle of papers in her hand. "Anything for me, Laura?" he asked.
She saw him halt, and fling up his arms, as if apostrophizing Heaven, as if asking a question of the stars that twinkled in the wide-flung nimbus of the moon. Then at last he paced slowly back to her. He was still undecided.
And across the patio, up the stairs, through the door left wide-flung behind him, continued to pulse in his brain: She beat me to it. She beat me to it. She lay, crumpled and quivering, in hunting costume complete, save for the pair of tiny bronze spurs held over her in anguished impotence by the frightened maid. His examination was quick. Paula breathed, although she was unconscious.
He sprang up with a wide-flung gesture. "I'm doing it myself," he said, and his voice rang with a certain grim elation. "I'm doing it myself. And God knows I sha'n't give Him any peace till I'm satisfied. I may be small, but if I were no bigger than a mosquito, I'd keep on buzzing." He walked to the end of the room, stood for a second, and came slowly back.
Eileen almost betrayed herself by giggling, as at the real stage melodrama. When Mrs. Maper ran downstairs to interrogate the servants eruption into the kitchen was one of her incurable habits Eileen slipped through the wide-flung door, down the staircase, and then, seeing the butler ahead, turned sharp off to the little-used part of the corridor and so into the library.
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