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She communicates with her fans daily through her tweets.
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She and communicates
She is assisted by the computer expert Louie Palmer, who communicates with her through an earpiece.
She is unable to speak at an audible volume to Tasuke so she communicates by drawing cartoons on palm cards with a paintbrush.
She communicates using sign language, which is authentically recreated in the anime.
She communicates through texting.
She does not talk to the human characters, but communicates to Maddie's dog Scamp, who she will have puppies with and marry.
She and with
She helped him with the dishes, then he brought more water in from the spring before it got dark.
She wiped it off with the sleeve of her coat.
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 regarded them as signs that she was nearing the glen she sought, and she was glad to at last be doing something positive in her unenunciated, undefined struggle with the mountain and its darkling inhabitants.
She was standing with her back to the glass door.
She raised a protesting hand with a startled air.
She had touched her face, truly a noble and pure face, only with a lip salve which made her lips glisten but no redder than usual.
She cackled with mirth, showing the stumps of betel-stained teeth.
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 would look at Jack, with that hidden something in her eyes, and Jack would see the Woman and become breathless and a little sick.
She said, with the solicitude of a middle-aged woman for her only child.
She munched little ginger cakes called mulatto's belly and kept her green, somewhat hypnotic eyes fixed on a light-colored male who was prancing wildly with a 5-foot king snake wrapped around his bronze neck.
She said with intense feeling: `` Come near, let me feel your arms.
She daubed at her swimming eyes with a lacy handkerchief and said with obvious emotion: `` That poor boy!!
She, too, is concerned with `` the becoming, the process of realization '', but she does not think in terms of subtle variations of spatial or temporal patterns.
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 opened the boxes with a tear in her eye and a sad smile on her face.
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 was Ellen Aldridge, a widow of good repute who was employed by Gorton's wife and lived with the family.
She had to clean the glass on the display cases in the butcher shop, help her brother scrub the cutting tables with wire brushes, mop the floors, put down new sawdust on the floors and help check the outgoing orders.
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, with her own work-weary hands, put seeds in the ground, watched them sprout, bud, blossom, and get ready to bear.
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 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 ''.
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