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Page "Joseph Lyons" ¶ 3
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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 woman
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 said, with the solicitude of a middle-aged woman for her only child.
She had a dried-out quality -- a gray, lean woman, not unattractive.
She stood there, a large old woman, smiling at the things she would say to him in the morning, this big foolish baby of a son.
She was a pale woman.
She was forty-nine at this time, a lanky woman of breeding with an austere, narrow face which had the distinction of a steeple or some architecture that had been designed long ago for a stubborn sort of prayer.
She was a large woman with a frizzled gray poodle cut and a pencil clamped like a bit between her teeth while she hunted and pecked on an old typewriter.
She started to move away, just as a woman came out of the cottage, a big-boned, drab-haired figure with a clean apron tied over her limp print dress.
She was a strange woman, your mother.
She was most strange woman.
She is a serene woman who, after taking care of the housework, sits quietly in a chair.
She was the first Roman woman of the Roman Empire to have traveled with her husband to Roman military campaigns ; to support and live with the Roman Legions.
She was a beautiful and reputable woman and according to Pliny the Elder, she had a double canine in her upper right jaw, a sign of good fortune.
She was only the third Roman woman ( Livia Drusilla and Antonia Minor received this title ) and only the second living Roman woman ( the first being Antonia ) to receive this title.
She did it from a sense of duty, but she was a stern woman who expected respect, rather than love.
She was one of the first women to explore fully the realm of erotic writing, and certainly the first prominent woman in the modern West to write erotica.
She has demonstrated that transfer of these antibodies across the placenta from the pregnant woman to the fetus in utero can cause developmental abnormalities.
She was the subject of Simone de Beauvoir's 1959 essay, The Lolita Syndrome, which described Bardot as a " locomotive of women's history " and built upon existentialist themes to declare her the first and most liberated woman of post-war France.
She, a woman, was resolved to win or die ; if the men wanted to live in slavery, that was their choice.
She illustrates the interplay between Chinese and English cinema tradition but ultimately suggests that Jen, as the " woman warrior " of the film, overthrows the European patriarchal tradition.
She had her own intellectual ambitions as a young woman, but they were blocked by social restrictions, because of her poverty, her being a woman and wife, and her Jewish ethnicity.
She was at one time called the " most dangerous woman in America ," due to her free-love idealism and outspoken nature.
She was for thousands a symbol of what the free woman might be.

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