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

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

She had helped him change his mind.

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 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 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 the feeling that, under the mouldering leaves, there would be the bodies of dead animals, quietly decaying and giving their soil back to the mountain.

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 had been snared here by a vile sensuality that writhed around her throat in ever-tightening circles.

She had to escape.

She had to move in some direction -- any direction that would take her away from this evil place.

She wondered what had taken place in town, between him and his wife.

She had spent too many hours looking ahead, hoping and longing to catch even a glimpse of Dan and finding nothing but emptiness.

She had arrived this morning and come straight to the English Gardens.

She had retreated to this world.

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 had hated the whole idea before they started.

She had jumped away from his shy touch like a cat confronted by a sidewinder.

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 might have been someone he had once loved.

She began to watch a blonde-haired man, also in shorts, standing right at the rear of the wrecked car in the one spot that most of the crowd had detoured slightly.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed again, back in the same position where the snake had found her.

She had the opportunity that few clever women can resist, of showing her superiority in argument over a man.

She studied it for a long time.

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

She was forty-nine at this time, a lanky woman of breeding with an austere, narrow face which had the distinction of a steeple or some architecture that had been designed long ago for a stubborn sort of prayer.

She named 48 items, and said there were `` many more things which it would take too long to write ''.

She had swished away, she had been gone for a long time probably when Sarah suddenly realized that she ought to stop her, pour out the coffee, so no one would drink it.

She threw back a cushion over one of the seats, unlocked a padlock on the chest beneath it, then presently straightened, holding a long knife and a wicked looking spear gun in her hand.

She put the violin away and took out some linen, needles and yarn to while away the long, idle days in Budapest.

She had black eyes, long and intriguingly tilted, and the way she walked was melody.

Catherine was quite short in stature with long red hair, wide blue eyes, a round face, and a fair complexion. She was descended, on her maternal side, from the English royal house ; her great-grandmother Catherine of Lancaster, after whom she was named, and her great-great-grandmother Philippa of Lancaster were both daughters of John of Gaunt and granddaughters of Edward III of England.

She claimed to feel " jubilant " when cutting off her long hair.

She carried on a long correspondence with Pope Gregory XI, also asking him to reform the clergy and the administration of the Papal States.

She does not understand what's going on around the cabin and is not alive long enough to figure it out.

She read avidly and took long walks amongst a natural environment that inspired her greatly.

She died on 2 January 1992 after a long battle with cancer.

She described the long necked creature as living in the rivers, and being about the size of a hippo, if not somewhat larger.

Barbara Walters said of her, " She has served every day for eight long years the word ' style.

The Australian alternative rock band, The Go-Betweens dedicated a track off their 1994 album The Friends of Rachel Worth, When She Sang About Angels in reference to Smith's long time influence on themselves.

She notes that not only are the results not very precise, but that other structures mentioned in the research are not in fact pyramids, e. g. a tomb alleged to be the tomb of Amphion and Zethus near Thebes, a structure at Stylidha ( Thessaly ) which is just a long wall, etc.

She claims that Gould — particularly in his popular essays — uses a variety of strategies from literature, political science, and personal anecdotes to substantiate the general pattern of punctuated equilibrium ( long periods of stasis interrupted by rapid, catastrophic change ).

She was not happy at Moulson's, but she did not have to stay there long.

She long resisted public speaking for fear she would not be sufficiently eloquent.

" She reached up and scratched her long fingernails down both my cheeks so deeply that I had marks for about a week ,” Cowles wrote.

She also had a long career in the city council of Helsinki, serving there from 1977 to 1996.

She explained to us what it all meant, that this was the day for which she had been so long praying, but fearing that she would never live to see.