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Page "hobbies" ¶ 280
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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 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 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 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.

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