She was the widow of a writer who had died in an airplane crash, and Mickie had found her a job as head of the historical section of the Treasury.

She thought again of her children, those two who had died young, before the later science which might have saved them could attach even a label to their separate malignancies.

She was still in the play for pay business when she died, a top trollop who had given the world's oldest profession one of its rare flashes of glamour.

She had quarreled with Lucien, she had resisted his demands for money -- and if she died, by the provisions of her marriage contract, Lucien would inherit legally not only the immediate sum of gold under the floorboards in the office, but later, when the war was over, her father's entire estate.

She died on August 25, most likely of typhoid fever.

She died around 1603 and is buried in the O ' Malley family tomb on Clare Island.

She had intended Newton to become a clergyman, but she died of tuberculosis when he was six years old.

She answered her accusers that she received tuition from Thomas Reid, a former barony officer who had died at the Battle of Pinkie some 30 years before and also from the Queen of the Elfhame which lay nearby.

She died broken-hearted in July of the next year, at the castle of Poissy, and was buried in the Convent of St Corentin, near Nantes.

She died in 1274, after they had three children.

She was married in 515 to Eutharic ( c. 480 – 522 ), an Ostrogoth noble of the old Amal line, who had previously been living in Visigothic Hispania, son of Widerich ( born c. 450 ), grandson of Berismund ( born c. 410 ), and great-grandson of Thorismund ( died after 400 ), King of the Ostrogoths c. 400.

She had two sons ( Roberto and an unnamed one ), but both died young.

She fought Achilles and died after he seriously wounded her.

She died in 2006 at the age of 96.

She died within a short time of the marriage ceremony and created the opportunity for Dom Pedro to escape with his true love and live in the city of Coimbra.

She told everyone that the money came from her father, who died at about the same time.

Following some success illustrating cards and booklets, Potter wrote and illustrated The Tale of Peter Rabbit publishing it first privately in 1901, and a year later as a small, three-colour illustrated book with Frederick Warne & Co. She became unofficially engaged to her editor Norman Warne in 1905 despite the disapproval of her parents, but he died suddenly a month later, of leukemia.

She died on 22 December 1943 at her home in Near Sawrey at age 77, leaving almost all her property to the National Trust.

She herself died in 1558, and in 1559 Elizabeth I reintroduced the 1552 book with a few modifications to make it acceptable to more traditionally minded worshippers, notably the inclusion of the words of administration from the 1549 Communion Service alongside those of 1552.

She died two years later.

She died in the September 11 attacks.

She died c. 352 / 3.

She died in 360.

She had three children, a daughter ( who went to live at the Dominican Abbey in Poissy in 1397 as a companion to the king's daughter, Marie ), a son Jean, and another child who died in childhood.

She was born on 5 July 1996 and she lived until the age of six, at which point she died from a progressive lung disease.

She died in 1130.

She was also Princess regnant of the Principality of Antioch ( a crusader state ) from 1130 to her death.

She became princess of Antioch when she was only four-years-old, under the regency of Baldwin II of Jerusalem ( 1130 – 1131 ) and Fulk of Jerusalem ( 1131 – 1136 ).

She was amazingly light, and so relaxed in his arms that he wasn't even sure she was conscious.

She was carrying a quirt, and she started to raise it, then let it fall again and dangle from her wrist.

She glanced around the clearing, taking in the wagon and the load of supplies and trappings scattered over the ground, the two kids, the whiteface bull that was chewing its cud just within the far reaches of the firelight.

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 was quick.

She brought up her free hand to hit him, but this time he was quicker.

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 sure she would reach the pool by climbing, and she clung to that belief despite the increasing number of obstacles.

She was bewildered.

She was standing in a thick grove.

She already knew this unwholesome, chilling atmosphere that was somehow grotesquely alive.

She was glad, completely and unselfishly glad, to see that things were working out the right way for both Sally and Dan.

She was still hugging the stained coat around her, so I said, `` Relax, let me take your things.

She was wearing nothing beneath the coat.

She was standing with her back to the glass door.

She was just not able to break the spell.

She was telling herself that this might just be her reward at the end of a long meaningful search for truth.

Meredith was irritated when the Grafin knocked at his door and told him, `` She is a great beauty!!

She confessed she was unhappy, he asked was it her husband??

She began to explain, `` There was this poet, in Italy '' He interrupted, `` Please don't judge all poets ''.

She was like charcoal, he thought -- dark, opaque, explosive.