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Updated: May 31, 2025
If we refuse to touch dung and phlegm even with a fingertip, how can we desire to embrace a sack of dung? The mediæval monks of the more contemplative order, indeed, often found here a delectable field of meditation, and the Christian world generally was content to accept their opinions in more or less diluted versions, or at all events never made any definite protest against them.
The roadway was gashed with ruts of ice. She looked at the extra cup and plate. She looked at the wing-chair. It was so empty. The tea was cold in the pot. With wearily dipping fingertip she tested it. Yes. Quite cold. She couldn't wait any longer. The cup across from her was icily clean, glisteningly empty. Simply absurd to wait. She poured her own cup of tea. She sat and stared at it.
"Oh, I don't know " and Patty put her fingertip in her mouth, and looked so exaggeratedly shy that Jack burst into laughter. "You're a rogue, Patty," he declared. "If you don't look out you'll grow up a flirt." "Am I flirting with you?" and Patty opened her eyes very wide in mock horror at such an idea. "No, not exactly. But you may, if you like." "I DON'T like!" said Patty, decidedly.
She put out her chubby hand and solemnly touched the doll's dress with her fingertip, saying over and over, "Pretty sweet Honey! pretty sweet Honey!" When Miss Margery said they must go, Lois caught Anne's frock in her little fat hands and lisped, "Don't go away, sweet Honey. Stay here two, five minutes." Miss Margery smiled and patted the tangled curls.
"Private booth, best of everything, perfect privacy " The Guesser shook his head quickly. "No. Just tell me how to get to Mallard's." The barman looked at him for a moment, rubbing a fingertip across his chin, then he said: "You're not driving, I suppose, sir? No? Well, then, you can either take the tubeway or walk, sir...." He let the sentence hang, waiting for The Guesser's decision.
Instead of freeing all these slaves what do you say to the idea that we two escape by ourselves?" "Best idea I heard since torture was invented, we don't need all these stupid people. They just get in the way. Keep the operation small and fast, that's what I always say." "I always say that, too," Jason agreed, digging into his boot with his fingertip.
We no longer build fireplaces for physical warmth we build them for the warmth of the soul; we build them to dream by, to hope by, to home by. Blanche Devine used to come and watch them now and then as the work progressed. She had a way of walking round and round the house, looking up at it pridefully and poking at plaster and paint with her umbrella or fingertip.
His fingertip beat out in return the danger warning, then the series of code sounds to give an edited version of what must be guarded against. "Wass has a man in your camp. His skin is in just as much danger as the rest.
Adelaide was still in bed, but one long, pointed fingertip, pressed continuously upon the dangling bell, a summons that had long since lost its poignancy for the temperamental Lucie, indicated that she was about to get up. "My dear," she said in answer to Mathilde's question, "your grandfather's principal interest seems to be to tell me nothing at all, and he has been wonderfully successful.
If not if he wouldn't agree to my filing suit under the New York law, I could establish my residence in California or Nevada, and bring suit there. ..." Mrs. Haviland gasped. "Give up your home and your car and your maids for some small hotel?" she questioned, with her favorite air of neatly placing her fingertip upon the weak spot in her opponent's armor.
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