each day the hurt was a little duller, a little less poignant.

The Gap looming before him -- the place where had confronted Jack English on that day so many years ago -- was his exit from all that had meaning to him.

It was, I felt, possible that they were men who, having received no tickets for that day, had remained in the hall, to sleep perhaps, in the corners farthest removed from the counter with its overhead light.

That was the day that he had practically mopped up the main street of Big Sands with Aaron McBride, field boss for the Highlands Oil & Gas Company.

While five minutes ago the place had presented a scene of easy revelry, with Gyp Carmer a prominent figure, it was now as somnolent and dull as the day before payday.

The arrangement I had with him was to work four hours a day.

For several weeks we eyed one another almost like sparring partners, and then one day Uncle was slightly indisposed and stayed home ; ;

As we expected, on the following day my Uncle was completely recovered and opened the store as usual at 10 in the morning.

I quit work at my usual hour as if this day was no different from other days.

The next day he was gone.

Fresh on his mind were events of the past day when his whole regiment was destroyed in the hills.

Directly opposite the door was a roaring log fire, a welcome sight on that bitterly cold day.

Sometimes he did this three or four times a day, for this Woman was almost always with him.

Once ( this was on the third day of school ) she kneeled down to pick up some books where they'd dropped on the floor and Jack looked up her dress -- at the bare expanse of incredibly white leg.

Jack walked off alone out the road in the searing midday sun, past Robert Allen's three-room, tarpapered house, toward the field where the other boys were playing ball, thinking of what he would do in order to make Miss Langford have him stay in after school -- because this was the day he had decided when he thought he saw the look in her eyes.

That was the day it ended.

The Rule of Law, historically a principle according everyone his `` day in court '' before an impartial tribunal, was broadened substantively by making it a responsibility of government to promote individual welfare.

It was a nice day, granted.

My curiosity was sharpened a day or two before the interview by a conversation I had with a well-informed teacher of literature, a Jesuit father, at a conference on religious drama near Paris.

Almost from that day, until his death, Olgivanna was to stay at his side ; ;

Next day, word came that Miriam was not going through with the divorce ; ;

This conference was held despite Stavropoulos' assurance to Adolf Berle, who was leaving the same day for Puerto Rico, that nothing would be done until his return on January 22, except that the Secretary General would probably order the list destroyed.

It was said that the Hetman plotted to take over the entire Hearst newspaper empire one day by means of various coups: the destruction of editors who tried to halt his course, the unfrocking of publishers whose mistakes of judgment might be magnified in secret reports to Mr. Hearst.

One day he assigned me to lay bare a `` plot '' by the Duponts to supply munitions to a wholly fictitious revolution he said was about to occur in Cuba.

Her face was very thin, and burned by the sun until much of the skin was dead and peeling, the new skin under it red and angry.

It was pitiful to see the thin ranks of warriors, old and young, wheeling and twisting their ponies frantically from side to side only to be tumbled bleeding from their saddles by the relentless slam, slam of the cruelly efficient Hawkinses.

And he was handsome, despite the long thin scar that slanted across his cheek.

The man was tall, thin, with a narrow face and a too-large nose.

He was on the thin side, with big hands, and the kind of wrists that give away the power in forearm and bicep.

The cap was stuck and made a thin rusty squeaking as he applied pressure.

He was over six feet tall and very thin.

Their skin was covered with a thin coating of sweat and dirt which had almost the consistency of a second skin.

Alexander Vasilievitch Suvorov, now in his fifty-ninth year ( ten years Potemkin's senior ), was a thin, worn-faced person of less than medium height who looked like a professor of botany.

His gray hair was thin, his face beginning to attract a swarm of wrinkles.

There is a mediocre restaurant at Sounion and I fed a thin little Grecian cat and gave it two saucers of water -- there was no milk -- which it lapped up as though it were nectar.

As he pulled the fringed sides up and made himself into a cocoon, Mr. Podger saw that thin, attractive, freckled little face again, and hoped that the boy, too, was lying in a cool, fringed-wrapped quiet.

And all this too shall pass away: it came to him out of some dim corner of memory from a church service when he was a boy -- yes, in a white church with a thin spur steeple in the patriarchal Hudson Valley, where a feeling of plenitude was normal in those English-Dutch manors with their well-fed squires.

His captain was thin and haggard and his beautiful boots were worn and shabby.

His sandy hair was already beginning to thin and recede at the sides, and Abel looked quickly away.

There never was a season before, but now they want to thin 'em out on account of the drouth ''.

Herb, an expert on narrow ties, thin lapels, and swatches, was men's fashion editor of Parvenu, the weekly magazine with the tremendous circulation.

Her uniform was of rich, raw silk, in a shade which matched her hair, skin, housepaint, and cats, and since she was so thin as to be almost shapeless, she rather resembled a frozen fish stick.

The simple, clever production was also able to tread the thin line between those extremes.

It was enough for people to know that at one time he had looked down the street at the fleshy suppleness of a woman he had consumed -- watching her become thinner and thinner in the distance, as thin as the seams on her stockings, and still thinner.

He expected Concetta's thin hand to reach down to grasp the boy, and her shrill, impetuous voice to sound against the rotundity of his disfigured flesh that was never sure of hearing anything.

Eugenia hated being cold worse than anything, and she was beginning to find the joys of poverty wearing thin.