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 lay there, making no effort to get back on her feet.

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 had the feeling that, under the mouldering leaves, there would be the bodies of dead animals, quietly decaying and giving their soil back to the mountain.

She said without turning her head, `` After that rain beating in atop the dust, there isn't a thing that won't be streaked ''.

She remained squatting on her heels all the time we were there ; ;

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 reached and reached around the dress, but there was nothing there.

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 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 had begun to turn back toward the house, but his look caught her and she stood still, waiting there for what his expression indicated would be a serious word of farewell.

She had talked to him right there, with the hot sun in his face, which made him sweat and feel ashamed.

She always let it be known that there was wine in the pot roast or that the chicken had been marinated in brandy, and that Koussevitzky's second cousin was an intimate of theirs.

She retreated by leaving the room when we suggested that our meeting might well terminate right then and there.

She named 48 items, and said there were `` many more things which it would take too long to write ''.

She began to doubt whether there had been in fact a lethal dose of opium in the cup.

She took Glendora to the smokehouse, unlocked it and saw with satisfaction there was still a quantity of hams and sides of bacon, hanging from the smoke-stained rafters.

She refused to have a doctor, insisting there was nothing a doctor could do for her.

She stood there, watching Holden come in, and she put the piece of toast in her mouth and bit off one corner with a huge chomp of her white teeth.

She sees that there is a cup of steaming hot coffee awaiting him and the two chat informally as she presents the rules of the center and explains procedures.

She had always been able to ignore the moral question because there had been no choice.

She had better stay there, Lucy thought ; ;

She was not alone for there were three other such children in the big city's special nursery.

She gave birth there and was accepted by the people, offering them her promise that her son would be always favourable toward the city.

She stops feeding while they are there and they consume their egg yolks.