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She was no schoolgirl, refusing to bear tales.
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Brown Corpus
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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 no
She lay there, making no effort to get back on her feet.
She had touched her face, truly a noble and pure face, only with a lip salve which made her lips glisten but no redder than usual.
She was certain now that it would be no harder to bear her child here in such pleasant surroundings than at home in the big white house in Haverhill.
She used to tell me, `` When I stand there and look at the flag blowing this way and that way, I have the wonderful, safe feeling that Americans are protected no matter which way the wind blows ''.
She had no children ; ;
She was a living doll and no mistake -- the blue-black bang, the wide cheekbones, olive-flushed, that betrayed the Cherokee strain in her Midwestern lineage, and the mouth whose only fault, in the novelist's carping phrase, was that the lower lip was a trifle too voluptuous.
She could do no wrong at the tables that time.
She had no way of knowing in advance whether an opportunity for murder existed.
She was apparently the pioneer in her family because she had no close relatives in this country at that time.
She noted that no student had been withdrawn through loss of confidence ; ;
She had swished away, she had been gone for a long time probably when Sarah suddenly realized that she ought to stop her, pour out the coffee, so no one would drink it.
She had caught him off guard, no preparation, nothing certain but that ahead lay some kind of disaster.
She had always been able to ignore the moral question because there had been no choice.
She set out to make sure that no Jewish child anyplace in the world had to live in a place such as this ''.
She showed no interest at all in the life he had led back home, and it hurt him a little.
She no longer wanted anything about him to remind her of the circumstances of their meeting that first night in Parioli.
She felt the lash bite and heard her father say in crazed monosyllables words which had no meaning, like, `` unnnt!!
She wore a bathing suit like his mother's, no straps on the shouders.
She said sharks have no bones and shrimp swam backward.
She looked good, with her short tousled hair and no make-up.
She meant him well, but was in no condition for articulate speech.
She appeared to have no children with her husband and her sepulchral inscription has been found in Italy.
She bound Andrew as a boy as an apprentice tailor ; Johnson had no formal education but taught himself how to read and write, with some help from his masters, as was their obligation under his apprenticeship.
She was never considered legitimate and, when the king was dying, no one took her as a serious contender for the crown.
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