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

She helped him with the dishes, then he brought more water in from the spring before it got dark.

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

She saw it then, the distant derrick of the wildcat -- a test well in unexplored country.

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

She just about made me carry her upstairs and then she clung to me and wouldn't let me go.

She had surprised Hans like she had surprised me when she said she'd go, and then she surprised him again when she came back so quick like she must have, because when I came in with the snow she was there with a bottle with three white feathers on its label and Hans was holding it angrily by the throat.

She went into the living room and turned on three lamps, then back into the kitchen where she turned on the ceiling light and the switch that lit the floods on the barn, illuminating the driveway.

She then went over them thoroughly giving each a strenuous test in showmanship.

She was then trained on the trot until December 29, hitched to a breaking cart once around the half-mile track and hoppled again.

She patronized Greenwich Village artists for awhile, then put some money into a Broadway show which was successful ( terrible, but successful ).

She then described her experience as one in which she first had difficulty accepting for herself a state of being in which she relinquished control.

She retreated by leaving the room when we suggested that our meeting might well terminate right then and there.

She was the John Harvey, one of those Atlantic sea-horses that had sailed to Bari to bring beans, bombs, and bullets to the U.S. Fifteenth Air Force, to Field Marshal Montgomery's Eighth Army then racing up the calf of the boot of Italy in that early December of 1943.

She was Mary Lou Brew then, wide-eyed, but not naive.

She worked as a domestic, first in Newport for a year, and then in South Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, for another year.

She had assumed before then that one day he would ask her to marry him.

She was thirty-one years old then.

She walked restlessly across the room, then back to the windows.

She smoothed the skirt, sat down, then stood up and went back to the windows.

She made a face at him and then she laughed.

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 took postgraduate work at the University of Grenoble in France and then returned to London to work on market research with an advertising firm.

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

She asked smolderingly.

She asked.

She asked if I had other advice and, heady with success, I rushed it in, I hope not too late.

She asked, taking him and Juanita into the parlor where the shutters were closed against the afternoon sun.

She asked him, seeing Juanita's eyes grow bleak.

She wrote again and now, abandoning for the moment the theme of love, she asked for help in the matter of her career.

She asked Bobby Joe that night.

She had asked.

She asked.

She asked with a reportorial gleam in her eye.

She went downstairs and received another curious shock, for when Glendora flapped into the dining room in her homemade moccasins, Sarah asked her when she had brought coffee to her room and Glendora said she hadn't.

She asked steadily.

She telephoned the junior partner of her law firm, Martin Stacy, and asked him to call at her hotel that evening.

She asked, winking wildly.

She asked.

She asked, turning slowly.

She asked, turning suddenly.

She asked suddenly.

She asked him.

She asked, in a way that seemed oddly sophisticated, considerate, and yet perhaps partly scornful.

She asked him.

She asked Bobbie.

She asked gently.

She asked.