She also alleged he had ripped her clothes and yanked out strands of her hair.

She had to get away from here before this demoniac possession swallowed up the liquid of her eyes and sank into the fibers of her brain, depriving her of reason and sight.

She had to move in some direction -- any direction that would take her away from this evil place.

She had jumped away from his shy touch like a cat confronted by a sidewinder.

She softly let herself into the bed, and took her regular side, away from the door, where she slept better because Keith was between her and the invader.

She pulled her legs up under her, to rise, her full peasant skirt drawing up her thighs, and Feathertop's music pfffted away.

She didn't turn away from the window.

`` She didn't really say '' -- She glanced away at the floor, then swooped gracefully and picked up one of Scotty's slippers.

She twitched her leg away.

She whirled and faced him, roaring terribly, and Ulyate, watching through the leaves, could not understand why she did not charge and obliterate him, because he wouldn't have much of a chance of getting away, in that thick growth, but she seemed just a trace uncertain ; ;

She did not notice that the customer seized her purchase and turned away without a smile or a word of thanks.

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 stayed away for ten days.

She slapped the receiver into its holder and stepped away.

) She might now have taken it away again.

She put the violin away and took out some linen, needles and yarn to while away the long, idle days in Budapest.

She found herself wishing an old wish, that she had told Doaty she was running away, that she had left something more behind her than the loving, sorry note and her best garnet pin.

She did suddenly, through the link of memory with his father, old Titus, who must have been in his nineties when Henrietta ran away.

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 could not count the times Herman had rapped on the door, just a couple of bangs that shook the whole damned closet and might, someday, break away the pipe connections from the wall.

She saw me and sat down beside me, three feet away.

She indicated a spot a little distance away.

She instinctively sheered away from personal discussions but she filed the comment away for further meditation.

She helped him with the dishes, then he brought more water in from the spring before it got dark.

She was carrying a quirt, and she started to raise it, then let it fall again and dangle from her wrist.

She sat quietly, staring at me from the wide eyes.

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 came from Ohio, from what she called a `` small farm '' of two hundred acres, as indeed it was to farmer-type farmers.

She was born Lilian Steichen, her parents immigrants from Luxemburg.

She was pious, too, once kneeling through the night from Holy Thursday to Good Friday, despite the protest of the nuns that this was too much for a young girl.

She ended her letter with the assurance that she considered his friendship for her daughter and herself to be an honor, from which she could not part `` without still more pain ''.

She was from Prague.

She was ready to kill the beef, dress it out, and with vegetables from her garden was going to can soup, broth, hash, and stew against the winter.

She said, `` I notice the girl from across the street hasn't bothered to phone or visit ''.

She smoothed the covers on Scotty's bed and picked things up from the floor.

She soared over the new pastor like an avenging angel lest he stray from the path and not know all the truth and gossip of which she was chief repository.

She was told by the manservant who opened the door that his lordship was engaged on work from which he had left strict orders he was not to be disturbed.

She usually wore weeds, and a stranger watching her board a train might have guessed that Mr. Pastern was dead, but Mr. Pastern was far from dead.

She turned and walked stiffly into the parlor to the dainty-legged escritoire, warped and cracked now from fifty years in an atmosphere of sea spray.

She looked at the girl speculatively from eyes which had paled with the years ; ;

She was personally sloppy, and when she had colds would blow her nose in the same handkerchief all day and keep it, soaking wet, dangling from her waist, and when she gardened she would eat dinner with dirt on her calves.