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Updated: June 11, 2025
His keen blue eyes, in one of which was stuck a monocle attached to a broad black ribbon, rested appraisingly upon the ascending spiral of the stone stairway that vanished into the gloomy upper reaches of the Building.
The putty, from age, was as solid as cement. The whole window was a bare sixteen by twenty inches. Lad ran back, once more, a few feet; his gaze fixed appraisingly on the window and measuring his distance with the sureness of a sharpshooter. The big collie had made up his mind. His plan was formed.
Worthington thought, although he could not imagine what it might be. As Isaac Worthington sat there, thinking, it grew clear, to him at last that there was but one exit out of a, very desperate situation. He glanced at Cynthia again, this time appraisingly. She had dried her eyes, but she made no effort to speak. After all, she would make such a wife for his son as few men possessed.
"It is a bargain and if you waited someone might get ahead of you. We'll go down." "Er well, how much is it?" "All cash?" "Why, yes, I suppose so." "It makes a difference. Sometimes fellows want to pay part cash and part promise, and sometimes they want to trade. If you pay cash you get it cheaper, of course." "All right. How much for it?" Durkin looked the customers over appraisingly.
Pierre was neither excited nor in a bad humor. Nor did Carrigan's attitude appear to disturb him in the least. He was smiling; his eyes glowed with almost boyish curiosity as he stared appraisingly at David and then, slowly, a low chuckle of laughter rose in his deep chest, and he advanced with an outstretched hand. "I am St. Pierre Boulain," he said.
The man looked down appraisingly at the long, straight line of the back, the white, wavy, silken hair, that glistened like satin in the sun, the noble dome of the head with its one lemon-coloured ear, the intelligence, courage, and high breeding in the upraised, fearless eyes. "Where did you get him?" Jim told him. "Why, I knew Doctor Tolman well. A fine old gentleman. Gordon's my name. Mr.
The blonde woman moved and jangled a bit in her chair. "Well, I'll take it," she sighed. "Look at the colour on that girl! And it's real too." She rose heavily and came over to Ray, reached up and pinched her cheek appraisingly with perfumed white thumb and forefinger. "That'll do, girl," said Miss Jevne sweetly. "Take this along and change these ribbons from blue to pink."
Rose looked at her appraisingly. "No, perhaps you don't need it after all, not anyhow when you blush like that. You have quite a pretty blush, Dinah, and you are wise to make the most of it. Are you ready, dear? Then we will go down."
The breeze strengthened and there was a ripple of water at the bows. Was he saved? The one-eyed person looked more disappointed than pleased, and observed to the Leading Gentleman: "We cannot live to Aden, though the wind hold. We must eat," and he regarded the figure of Moussa Isa critically, appraisingly, with mingled favour and disfavour.
Her cool, brown, calculating eyes went appraisingly over the Happy Family while she spoke. "I've been right around here, all the time," Andy gave meek account of himself. "I've been busy." "Oh. Did you go over the tract, Mr. Green?" she lowered her voice. "Yes-s I went over it." "And what do you think of it privately?" "Privately it's pretty big." Andy sighed.
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