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She then crawled back to Cole to tell him help was coming.
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She and then
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 and crawled
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 crawled to some pea bushes behind the church, where she remained hidden overnight until she was rescued the following morning.
She crawled over to her boyfriend, cuddled him, hugged him, and died.
She and back
She lay there, making no effort to get back on her feet.
She brought the quirt down, slashing it across his cheek, and he tried to step back.
She would return this symbol to the mountain, as one pours seed back into the soil every Spring or as ancient fertility cults demand annual human sacrifice.
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 thrust forward through the shadows and the trees that resisted her and tried to fling her back.
She jerked the coat back on and squeezed it around her again, but not soon enough.
She was standing with her back to the glass door.
She drank and pushed back her gingham bonnet to wet a kerchief and wipe her face.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed again, back in the same position where the snake had found her.
She was nude to the waist and her tumbled abundance of black hair did not conceal the knife slashes on her back.
She came back the other day to reassure me.
She had even steeled herself to keep Juanita upstairs in the nurse's room off the empty nursery, although the girl tried to insist on moving back to the quarters to spare Kate remembrance of the baby's death.
She looked back toward the schoolroom.
She had begun to turn back toward the house, but his look caught her and she stood still, waiting there for what his expression indicated would be a serious word of farewell.
She walked back to the house and entered, feeling herself returning, sensing some kind of opportunity in the empty building.
She felt the look and looked back because she could not help it, seeing that he was neither as old nor as thick as she had at first believed.
She said it was after she returned from her vomiting spell in the back yard that Mrs. Borden told her to wash the windows.
She went in to get the hamburgers, and I switched on the device again and kept the signal from Dowling's car coming in steady and clear until I saw her starting back with the hamburgers.
She measured the distance from where they stood to the men and the gun, measured the distance from the men to the back room.
She tore open the back door.
She could easily understand why the two men had been startled to find a strange girl in the back seat of their car ( she had figured that out ), but she couldn't understand their subsequent actions.
She wouldn't go back to New York as Maude suggested ; ;
She thrust the envelope back in the bag ; ;
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