She smiled.

She smiled slightly.

She smiled, and the teeth gleamed in her beautifully modeled olive face.

She smiled at Winston, and he saw the hateful hard glitter in her eyes.

She smiled at him wetly.

She smiled and bowed, recalling the princess-in-a-carriage feeling she had enjoyed when she was a child.

She smiled vaguely at Henrietta and spoke to the old man.

She smiled in a sickly-tolerant fashion.

She smiled.

She smiled to herself.

She smiled, and expertly let herself downward, holding this known root or that, her sneakers sliding in the leaves.

She smiled, a smile without humor.

She smiled at me, but it was an awfully sad smile.

She smiled at him with benign, remote happiness ; ;

She smiled her way through the ordeal, which the British press still portrayed in a positive light, describing the crowds as " enthusiastic ".

She once held him and hummed some rhythms to him, and he smiled and joined along.

She spends time with and becomes friends with Pacifica, and it is one of the few times she has smiled and laughed since her parents were killed.

" She smiled and kissed him.

She smiled and laughed more than the other characters, having a nature that writer Frank Spotnitz felt was lighter, sunnier, brighter, warmer and more " overtly sexy ".

" She smiled.

She claimed to have met the child-Jesus several times in 1995 during her missionary travel in Bogota, Colombia, where a life-sized statue of the Infant of Prague dressed in pink robe came alive, smiled and spoke to her.

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

She remained squatting on her heels all the time we were there ; ;

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 can remove all knick-knacks within reach.

She soared over the new pastor like an avenging angel lest he stray from the path and not know all the truth and gossip of which she was chief repository.

She was personally sloppy, and when she had colds would blow her nose in the same handkerchief all day and keep it, soaking wet, dangling from her waist, and when she gardened she would eat dinner with dirt on her calves.

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 had made curtains for all the windows of her little house, and she had kept it spotless and neat, shabby as it was, and cooked good meals for Bobby Joe.

She had done all the things she had promised herself she would do, but she had not thought of this.

She was going to tell Bobby Joe about how mistaken she had been, but he brought one of the cousins home for supper, and all they did was talk about antelope.

She was too young, that was all ; ;

She hopes that all will support the contestants from our own community by attending our Pageants and the State Pageant June 17 ; ;

She also banks into a turn like a fine runabout -- not digging in on the outside to throw passengers all over the boat like many a small cabin cruiser.

She found she could cope with all kinds of problems for which she was once considered too helpless.

She is well-educated and refined, all wildcat and fur, and Union from the muzzle to the crupper ''.

She drew on all her resources of mind and heart to help them -- to make them at home in the world ; ;

She was closely associated with the Founders in all their trials and hardships.

She was closing and within one more bound would have been able to reach the rear end of the bay, but -- and here Jones and Loveless and Ulyate were holding breath for all they were worth -- she never quite caught up that last bound.

She had it all planned out, how she'd do.

She didn't mind working hard, not as if she figured to do anything wrong to live easy and soft -- all she wanted was a chance, where she wasn't marked as what she was.

She was all he had, everything he had, everything he wanted.

She tried to think of his unpredictable actions in the eleven years she had known him and discovered they weren't so many after all.

She glanced at the man nodding beside her, a man with weather cracks furrowed into his lean cheeks, with powdery pale eyes reflecting all the droughts he had seen, reflecting the sky and the drought which must follow now in August -- yes, with eyes predicting the drought and here it was only June, only festival time again and thoughts of Gratt Shafer would not leave her.

She showed no interest at all in the life he had led back home, and it hurt him a little.