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 also has a habit of turning dwarves into stone statues with which she decorates her palace.

She decorates some of the areas in her lab with toys such as ' Bleeding Edge Goth ' dolls and ' Teddy Scares.

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

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 showed her surprise by tightening the reins and moving the gelding around so that she could get a better look at his face.

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 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 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 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.