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Updated: September 18, 2024
Skinner was a very little old woman, capless, with dirty white hair drawn back very very tightly from a face that had begun by being chiefly, and was now, through the loss of teeth and chin, and the wrinkling up of everything else, ending by being almost exclusively nose. She let him in and talked to him guardedly and peered at him round and over her nose, while Mr.
"But what is better?" Foma looked at her askance and, irritated, said: "What repulsive words you speak." "Well, here again I haven't pleased him!" said Sasha, laughing. "What a fine crowd!" said Foma, painfully wrinkling his face. "They're like trees. They also live, but how? No one understands. They are crawling somewhere. And can give no account either to themselves or to others.
And you must n't mind Marietta, you must n't mind her laughter. Marietta is a Latin. The Latin conception of what is laughable differs by the whole span of heaven from the Teuton. You and I are Teutons." "Teutons ?" questioned Marietta wrinkling her brow. "Yes Germanic," said he. "But I thought the Signorino was English?" "So he is." "But the cow is not Germanic.
"Truly I have," answered the missionary, with an amused look, "but I did not presume to ask the Great Spirit to help us in this particular way. I left that to His wisdom and love. I have been taught to trust Him." "And if you had not got an answer at all," returned Okiok, wrinkling his brows in perplexity, "you would still have said that all was right?" "Just so. If I get an answer it is well.
"Now, papa," said Clara that morning, wrinkling her brows and putting her finger-tips together with the air of an experienced person of business, "I want to have a talk to you about money matters." "Yes, my dear." He laid down his paper, and looked a question. "Kindly tell me again, papa, how much money I have in my very own right. You have often told me before, but I always forget figures."
The two children had been riding and returned home by way of the brook over which their ambitious dreams had already built a bridge. Patricia, who was in rather a petulant mood, reproached Christopher rather sharply for having got rid of his last month's pocket money so prematurely. "Just like a boy," she said, wrinkling her nose contemptuously.
For an instant, the old man's face stiffened in disapproval; he started to say something, thought better of it, and put his pipe back into his mouth. The brief wrinkling around his mouth and the twitch of his white mustache had been enough, however; she knew what he was thinking. She was wasting time and effort, he believed; time and effort belonging not to herself but to the expedition.
I got to turn out and find my nigger." He looked kinder bothered, and stood there with his bills fluttering on his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his forehead. At last he says: "I'll tell you something. We got to be here three days. If you'll promise you won't blow, and won't let the nigger blow, I'll tell you where to find him."
It needs an architect to understand why Paul's Church is strong and beautiful, and what makes it so; but any child or foolish fellow can see that it is so." "I do not understand," said Isabel, wrinkling her forehead. "Why this that you are as likely to know the Catholic Church when you see it, as Dr. Grindal or Dr. Freake, or your dear father himself.
Other blazes encountered, all freshly made, led them straight to the lumber road for which she had been searching and would have missed had it not been for the friendly blazes that pointed the way. "What do ye 'low for that?" demanded the forest woman when they had emerged on the road. "I believe now that the blazes were intended for us," answered Tom, his brow wrinkling in perplexity.
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