No Second SpringFrederick A. Stokes Company, 1933 - 304 pagine |
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Pagina 69
... tears . She bent lower over her knitting . He alone— Well , of course , if he had not rescued the furniture there could have been no study , but the memory of the bitter coldness of her fingers as she drew book after book from the ...
... tears . She bent lower over her knitting . He alone— Well , of course , if he had not rescued the furniture there could have been no study , but the memory of the bitter coldness of her fingers as she drew book after book from the ...
Pagina 241
... Tears streamed down the cheeks of the men who were leaving the only land they knew ; a bewildered horror was depicted on their bronzed faces and in their grey eyes . The setting was perfect : the waves dashed against the boat's side and ...
... Tears streamed down the cheeks of the men who were leaving the only land they knew ; a bewildered horror was depicted on their bronzed faces and in their grey eyes . The setting was perfect : the waves dashed against the boat's side and ...
Pagina 272
... tears to his eyes . He entered the parlour quietly . The candles cast a soft glow over Allison as she sat at the piano ; her soft , dark head was bowed ; but as he entered she raised her face , and he saw that tears shone on her lashes ...
... tears to his eyes . He entered the parlour quietly . The candles cast a soft glow over Allison as she sat at the piano ; her soft , dark head was bowed ; but as he entered she raised her face , and he saw that tears shone on her lashes ...
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Alex Allison sat Andrew Simon baby beautiful began Bella Ben Buie beneath blue boat Book of Job brain Buie candle canna cheeks child clouds cold Coolins corner creeping crofters crofts damp dark dear door doorway drew eager Edinburgh face fear feel feet felt fichu filled fingers fire Gaelic gazed gently glance gleaming glen Glenlee gloaming grey eyes hair Hamish hand head heard Highland hills Hougoumont hurried Jean knew light looked Lord lowland Scot Mama Manse McLellan mind minister mist moved never night once Papa parlour peats psalm Quatre Bras quietly Renfrewshire road rose round rowlocks seaweed seemed shadow shone shoulder side silence sleep slowly smiled snow soft sound spirit spoke stirred stone stood strange stretched suddenly tall black tears things thought tiny trembling turned uncon voice weary wind window