She then digs a deep hole amidst the gushing blood.

She digs a hole and plants it, as she had told Léon he should, to give it roots.

She faces ridicule as the lady tells her to drink and wash at a spring that doesn't exist, but digs a hole in the ground and uses the wet sand and mud.

She is a very friendly and cheerful person, but hates it when Wishbone digs up her flower beds and therefore finds him a nuisance at times.

She digs up a box which contains Superman.

She and Berto were lovers when they were together in the digs.

" She also stated, "... Set in the mid -' 70s, ' Slums ' gets the period right, from the burnt orange shag carpet on the floor of the family's temporary digs to the dorky clothes and extreme hairstyles.

A few centuries slip by ; Eve and Adam have aged a bit, but otherwise have changed but little: She spends her time by spinning flax for weaving, he digs in the garden.

She digs in smaller, finer material to the centre of the mound using her feet.

She continues to rank in the top five in CU history in career kills ( 3rd-1, 484 ), career attacks ( 2nd-4, 330 ), career service aces ( t-4th-145 ) and career digs ( 4th-1, 342 ).

She rubbed her eyes and stretched, then sat up, her hands going to her hair.

She had picked up the quirt and was twirling it around her wrist and smiling at him.

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 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 had to get away from here before this demoniac possession swallowed up the liquid of her eyes and sank into the fibers of her brain, depriving her of reason and sight.

She stood up, pulled the coat from her shoulders and started to slide it off, then let out a high-pitched scream and I let out a low-pitched, wobbling sound like a muffler blowing out.

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 pulled her legs up under her, to rise, her full peasant skirt drawing up her thighs, and Feathertop's music pfffted away.

She would often go up on the roof to see the attendant take down the flag in the evening.

She looked up and saw that, without knowing it, Mrs. Coolidge was holding it aloft.

She had been picked up by the Russians, questioned in connection with some pamphlets, sentenced to life imprisonment for espionage.

She escaped, crawled through the usual mine fields, under barbed wire, was shot at, swam a river, and we finally picked her up in Linz.

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 smoothed the covers on Scotty's bed and picked things up from the floor.

`` She didn't really say '' -- She glanced away at the floor, then swooped gracefully and picked up one of Scotty's slippers.

She lost not a second, picking herself up and continuing her pilgrimage to Laura.

She was taken up in worry for the reckless old man.

She sprang up and went swiftly to the bedroom.

She swung her eyes up to the blue of the window, her jaws gently mashing the bitter beans.

She enjoyed great parties when she would sit up talking and dancing and drinking all night, but it always seemed to her that being alone, especially alone in her house, was the realest part of life.

She stood up, smoothing her hair down, straightening her clothes, feeling a thankfulness for the enveloping darkness outside, and, above everything else, for the absence of the need to answer, to respond, to be aware even of Stowey coming in or going out, and yet, now that she was beginning to cook, she glimpsed a future without him, a future alone like this, and the pain made her head writhe, and in a moment she found it hard to wait for Lucretia to come with her guests.

She had felt that her arm wanted to go up in the first trial, but had consciously prevented it from so doing.

She had reached a point at which she didn't even care how she looked.

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

She stared at him, her eyes wide as she thought about what he had said ; ;

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 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 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 did not pause to consider what she would do if her plan should fail ; ;

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

She wished that she could talk to her mother about it.

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

She set the dipper on the edge of the deck, leaving it for him to stretch after it while she looked on scornfully.

She quickly exploited the exalted position she now occupied, by harassing the disorganized males and even putting many of them to death.

She softly let herself into the bed, and took her regular side, away from the door, where she slept better because Keith was between her and the invader.

She came from Ohio, from what she called a `` small farm '' of two hundred acres, as indeed it was to farmer-type farmers.

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 could not resist the opportunity `` of showing her superiority in argument over a man '' which she had remarked as one of the `` feminine follies '' of Sara Sullam ; ;

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 read everything else she could get her hands on, including an article ( she thinks it was in the Atlantic Monthly ) by Mark Twain on `` White Slavery ''.