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Page "George Cukor" ¶ 5
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She and had
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 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 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 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 wiped it off with the sleeve of her coat.
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 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 and own
She had, with her own work-weary hands, put seeds in the ground, watched them sprout, bud, blossom, and get ready to bear.
She was wise enough to realize a man could be good company even if he did weigh too much and didn't own the mint.
She fell asleep leaning on her hand, hearing the house creaking as though it were a living a private life of its own these two hundred years, hearing the birds rustling in their cages and the occasional whirring of wings as one of them landed on the table and walked across the newspaper to perch in the crook of her arm.
She hopes that all will support the contestants from our own community by attending our Pageants and the State Pageant June 17 ; ;
She picked her own Middle-Eastern friends from the flock of ardent Egyptians that buzzed around her.
She wasn't quite sure that I felt enough remorse about my drinking, or that I would not return to it once I was out and on my own again.
She was finally at rest in truth, of her own proud free choice.
She smiled all the way to her wise, sad eyes, and drained her own.
She compared the results with tape recordings of modern singers and was not unpleased although her own tapes had a peculiar quality about them, not at all unharmonious, merely unique.
She and her second husband, Sir Max Mallowan, were one of the rare married couples to be titled, each in their own right.
She saw it her duty to compensate for the innumerable deficiencies of her strange husband through her own intelligence and strength of will.
She makes the argument that grouping all people of African descent together regardless of their unique ancestral circumstances would inevitably deny the lingering effects of slavery within the American community of slave descendents, in addition to denying black immigrants recognition of their own unique ancestral backgrounds.
She also wrote the updated introduction to Sagan's book The Cosmic Connection, the epilogue of Billions and Billions, and her own novel, A Famous Broken Heart.
She eventually went on to star in her own spin-off series, Daria.
The band performed mostly covers of international hits, but Andersson soon started writing his own material, and gave the band the classic hits " No Response ", " Sunny Girl ", " Wedding ", " Consolation ", " It's Nice To Be Back " and " She Will Love You " amongst others.
She once had a neighbour's donkey castrated while looking after it, on the grounds of its " sexual harassment " of her own donkey and mare, for which she was taken to court by the donkey's owner in 1989.
She tells her daughters-in-law to return to their own mothers, and remarry.
She put her bag on the bed to claim it as her own ; it was assumed this was pre-arranged.
She studied book illustration from a young age and developed her own tastes, but the work of the picture book triumvirate Walter Crane, Kate Greenaway and Randolph Caldecott, the last an illustrator whose work was later collected by her father, was a great influence.
She and her surviving siblings — Branwell, Emily, and Anne – created their own literary fictional worlds, and began chronicling the lives and struggles of the inhabitants of these imaginary kingdoms.
She had her own intellectual ambitions as a young woman, but they were blocked by social restrictions, because of her poverty, her being a woman and wife, and her Jewish ethnicity.
She tried applying the plein-air painting techniques used by the Impressionists to her own landscapes and portraiture, with little success.
" She summed up her driving work ethic, " I can say this: When I attempt anything, I have a passionate determination to overcome every obstacle … And I do my own work with a refusal to accept defeat that might almost be called painful.
" She had little money and struggled to cope, as she had the well-being of her ladies-in-waiting to maintain as well as her own.
She begins by claiming that her opponent was an “ expert in rhetoric ” as compared to herself “ a woman ignorant of subtle understanding and agile sentiment .” In this particular apologetic response, de Pizan belittles her own style.

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