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Page "Djed" ¶ 2
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She and asked
She confessed she was unhappy, he asked was it her husband??
She asked smolderingly.
She asked.
She asked if I had other advice and, heady with success, I rushed it in, I hope not too late.
She asked, taking him and Juanita into the parlor where the shutters were closed against the afternoon sun.
She asked him, seeing Juanita's eyes grow bleak.
She wrote again and now, abandoning for the moment the theme of love, she asked for help in the matter of her career.
She asked Bobby Joe that night.
She had asked.
She asked.
She asked with a reportorial gleam in her eye.
She went downstairs and received another curious shock, for when Glendora flapped into the dining room in her homemade moccasins, Sarah asked her when she had brought coffee to her room and Glendora said she hadn't.
She asked steadily.
She telephoned the junior partner of her law firm, Martin Stacy, and asked him to call at her hotel that evening.
She asked, winking wildly.
She asked.
She asked, turning slowly.
She asked, turning suddenly.
She asked suddenly.
She asked him.
She asked, in a way that seemed oddly sophisticated, considerate, and yet perhaps partly scornful.
She asked him.
She asked Bobbie.
She asked gently.
She asked.

She and for
She said, `` I guess the Lord looks out for fools, drunkards, and innocents ''.
She studied it for a long time.
She seemed to have come such a long distance -- too far for her destination which had wilfully been swallowed up in the greedy gloom of the trees.
She could not scream, for even if a sound could take shape within her parched mouth, who would hear, who would listen??
She was glad, completely and unselfishly glad, to see that things were working out the right way for both Sally and Dan.
She was telling herself that this might just be her reward at the end of a long meaningful search for truth.
She set the dipper on the edge of the deck, leaving it for him to stretch after it while she looked on scornfully.
She said, with the solicitude of a middle-aged woman for her only child.
She wrote gay plays about the girls for family entertainments, like `` Oh, What Fun!!
She has rarely been photographed with him and, except for Carl's seventy-fifth anniversary celebration in Chicago in 1953, she has not attended the dozens of banquets, functions, public appearances, and dinners honoring him -- all of this upon her insistence.
She was pious, too, once kneeling through the night from Holy Thursday to Good Friday, despite the protest of the nuns that this was too much for a young girl.
She knelt out of reverence for having read the Meditations of St. Augustine.
She left the next day for her teaching job at Princeton, Illinois.
She ended her letter with the assurance that she considered his friendship for her daughter and herself to be an honor, from which she could not part `` without still more pain ''.
She had her reasons for this.
She had been picked up by the Russians, questioned in connection with some pamphlets, sentenced to life imprisonment for espionage.
She gave me the names of some people who would surely help pay for the flowers and might even march up to the monument with me.
She had done it last year, and the year before, and the year before that, and she, and her people were dependent upon these cans for food.
She should offer substitutes for the temptations which seem overwhelmingly desirable to the child.
She was the only kind of Negro Laura Andrus would want around: independent, unservile, probably charging double what ordinary maids did for housework -- and doubly efficient.
She was taken up in worry for the reckless old man.
She had taken him out of the schoolhouse and closed the school for the summer, after she saw Miss Snow crack Joel across the face with a ruler for letting a snake loose in the schoolroom.
She lay under the covers making jabbing motions with her forefinger telling me where to look for the coffeepot.

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