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Turning quickly, Virginia met the smiling eyes of the rector those young and visionary eyes, which Nature, with a wistful irony, had placed beneath beetling brows in the creased and wrinkled face of an old man.
I had a six-shooter concealed in my waist-belt, and determined, at the first show of excitement, to run up to the Amir, and put it to his head, if it were necessary, to save my own life." The Amir was an etiolated young man of twenty-four or twenty-five, plain and thin-bearded, with a yellow complexion, wrinkled brows and protruding eyes.
"She stayed a few days and then she left the house said she could not do any good by staying. And Mr. Francis lying between life and death!" She covered her face with her wrinkled hands and began to weep again, and it was some moments before she could proceed.
"More'n all the world," the little man cried, with emotion. "Would you put up a a scrap fer her?" "With anybody." The corners of Bill's mouth wrinkled, but his eyes remained hard and commanding. Whatever feelings of an appreciative nature lay behind his lean face they were well hidden. "You'd face James an' all his gang again? You'd face him if it sure meant death?"
It was older, more wrinkled, but it was the same. How many years had the old fellow swung the baton? At least thirty years. In his boyhood days Grumbach had put that brilliant uniform side by side with the grand duke's. As it was impossible for him ever to become a duke, his ambition had been to arrive at the next greatest thing the bandmaster.
She had stayed past her hours for a glimpse of "Miss Peggie," with the best intention in the world of cheering her up. When the glimpse came, however, she stood mute tears channeling the old wrinkled face while the nurse patted her hands and made her laugh through the tears.
She compromised with herself by taking a plate if ice-cream and a thick slice of cake, slipping out of her back door, and hurrying down to Miss Carruthers's back yard. Peter stood there, leaning on his ax. Seated on a larger woodpile was old Daddy Christmas, one of the town beggars. Daddy Christmas was incredibly old, wrinkled, ragged, and bent.
He even slightly wrinkled his forehead, until he remembered that such an indulgence is apt to lead to permanent lines, whereupon he abruptly became as smooth as a baby, and added: "She must have had a tremendous reason. But I'm not aware that anyone knows what it is unless " he paused meditatively. "I have sometimes suspected that perhaps Seymour Portman " "Sir Seymour, the general?" "Yes.
Miss Maggie's forehead was wrinkled into a troubled frown. "They need help, I know. Mr. Davis has been sick a long time, you remember." "Yes, I know he has; and that's all the more reason, to my way of thinking, why they should be grateful for anything ANYTHING! The trouble is, she wants to be helped in ways of her own choosing.
At the cephalic pole of this body is a sort of mask, modelled roughly on the head of the larva, and at the opposite pole a small circular disk deeply wrinkled at the centre.
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