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Page "Alexandra of Denmark" ¶ 24
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She and her
She lay there, making no effort to get back on her feet.
She drank greedily, and murmured, `` Thank you '', as he lowered her head.
She rubbed her eyes and stretched, then sat up, her hands going to her hair.
She stared at him, her eyes wide as she thought about what he had said ; ;
She got to her feet, staggered, and almost fell.
She sat down at the table, shaking her head.
She clung to him, talking to him, and dabbing at her eyes.
She was carrying a quirt, and she started to raise it, then let it fall again and dangle from her wrist.
She showed her surprise by tightening the reins and moving the gelding around so that she could get a better look at his face.
She said, and her tone had softened until it was almost friendly.
She had picked up the quirt and was twirling it around her wrist and smiling at him.
She swung the quirt again, and this time he caught her wrist and pulled her out of the saddle.
She came down against him, and he tried to break her fall.
She wiped it off with the sleeve of her coat.
She brought up her free hand to hit him, but this time he was quicker.
She finally regained her balance and got up in the saddle.
She had offered to walk, but Pamela knew she would not feel comfortable about her child until she had personally confided her to the care of the little pink woman who chose to be called `` Auntie ''.
She remembered little of her previous journey there with Grace, and she could but hope that her dedication to her mission would enable her to accomplish it.

She and husband
She confessed she was unhappy, he asked was it her husband??
She had driven up with her husband in a convertible with Eastern license plates, although the two drivers knew nothing at the moment about that.
She stayed too late, and when she left, it was dark and time to go home and cook supper for her husband.
She and her husband had formerly lived in New York, where she had many friends, but Mr. Flannagan thought the country would be safer in case of war.
She knows the power of the sex urge and how to use it to manipulate her husband.
She might have been talking to some of her friends about her husband if they've been having any trouble ''.
She and her second husband, Sir Max Mallowan, were one of the rare married couples to be titled, each in their own right.
She appeared to have no children with her husband and her sepulchral inscription has been found in Italy.
She was a loyal, affectionate wife, who supported her husband.
She was the first Roman woman of the Roman Empire to have traveled with her husband to Roman military campaigns ; to support and live with the Roman Legions.
She saw it her duty to compensate for the innumerable deficiencies of her strange husband through her own intelligence and strength of will.
She taught her husband arithmetic up to basic algebra and tutored him to improve his literacy, reading, and writing skills.
She was saved from death by Perseus, her future husband.
She, with the consent of her husband, soon took the veil in the Benedictine nunnery of Jully-les-Nonnains.
It was restored to his widow, at the pleading of the poet André Chénier ; " She is old ", he urged, " she is seventy-six, and her husband has left her no heritage save his illustrious name, his virtues and his poverty.
She commuted between London to be with her husband, and New York, where she was blacklisted and thus rendered unemployable during the Red Scare of 1919-1920.
She had ceased to attend the meetings when she was nominated to be the first woman Grand Master of the Science Fiction Writers of America, but the nomination was withdrawn at the request of her husband, Thomas Reggie, who said that due to the Alzheimer's progress the award and ceremony would be at best confusing and likely upsetting to her.
She elected to work under the advice and management of her third husband, Marty Melcher, whom she married in Burbank on April 3, 1951.
She slowly began to turn into a black poplar, the bark spreading up her legs from the earth, but just before the woody stiffness finally reached her throat and as her arms began sprouting twigs her husband Andraemon heard her cries and came to her.
She had just enough time to warn her husband to take care of their child and make sure that he did not pick flowers.
She spoke privately many times with her husband, but was unsuccessful in convincing him not to sign it.
She was imprisoned between 1173 and 1189 for supporting her son Henry's revolt against her husband.
She died three years later, and was buried beside her first husband at Earls Colne.
She gets possessed when her husband accidentally unleashes the evil spirits of the book of the dead.
She is depicted as a wife who knows how to get her own way even though her husband thinks he is in charge.

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