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She was a little over five feet tall, with a lithe figure, auburn hair, and hazel eyes.
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She and was
She was amazingly light, and so relaxed in his arms that he wasn't even sure she was conscious.
She was carrying a quirt, and she started to raise it, then let it fall again and dangle from her wrist.
She glanced around the clearing, taking in the wagon and the load of supplies and trappings scattered over the ground, the two kids, the whiteface bull that was chewing its cud just within the far reaches of the firelight.
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 was quick.
She brought up her free hand to hit him, but this time he was quicker.
She regarded them as signs that she was nearing the glen she sought, and she was glad to at last be doing something positive in her unenunciated, undefined struggle with the mountain and its darkling inhabitants.
She was sure she would reach the pool by climbing, and she clung to that belief despite the increasing number of obstacles.
She was bewildered.
She was standing in a thick grove.
She already knew this unwholesome, chilling atmosphere that was somehow grotesquely alive.
She was glad, completely and unselfishly glad, to see that things were working out the right way for both Sally and Dan.
She was still hugging the stained coat around her, so I said, `` Relax, let me take your things.
She was wearing nothing beneath the coat.
She was standing with her back to the glass door.
She was just not able to break the spell.
She was telling herself that this might just be her reward at the end of a long meaningful search for truth.
Meredith was irritated when the Grafin knocked at his door and told him, `` She is a great beauty!!
She confessed she was unhappy, he asked was it her husband??
She began to explain, `` There was this poet, in Italy '' He interrupted, `` Please don't judge all poets ''.
She was like charcoal, he thought -- dark, opaque, explosive.
She and little
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.
She would look at Jack, with that hidden something in her eyes, and Jack would see the Woman and become breathless and a little sick.
She munched little ginger cakes called mulatto's belly and kept her green, somewhat hypnotic eyes fixed on a light-colored male who was prancing wildly with a 5-foot king snake wrapped around his bronze neck.
She also mentioned leaving a little bunch of flowers at the bust of Lauro Di Bosis.
She remarked that she found the night wind a little chilly, and Mr. Podger took her inside the fringe.
She would not accept the death of such a little child.
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 would sometimes even get a little hard on you, she took you so seriously.
`` She really is a dear little thing '', my mother agreed.
She laughed a little and tossed the dregs rakishly around in her glass.
She gave a little pout and said, `` I don't get off work until eleven o'clock.
She had cried a little because she was frightened.
She jumped as the little man now appeared at the window and, reaching through the opening, offered her a bottle of coke.
She doled out what Glendora vaguely guessed were the right amounts of dried peas, eggs, cornmeal, a little salt.
She started back for the house, saw a light in the office, opened the door and surprised a domestic little scene which was far outside the dark realm of murder or attempted murder.
She picked up the baby and nuzzled her fat warm little neck.
She ran from a little group of us.
She showed no interest at all in the life he had led back home, and it hurt him a little.
She was watching me intently, a funny little half-smile on her lips.
She had a funny little scar on her stomach, on the left side.
She indicated a spot a little distance away.
She sounded a little like a redhead.
She had great difficulty controlling them, and little success in instilling any education.
She had run out of things to say to Noel and so she told him a story about " four little rabbits whose names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail and Peter.
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