She watched him walk laboriously up the steep path, his heavy black shoes picking a slow careful route toward the Point Lobos Motor Inn.
Outside, the mist coming in from the sea moved on a brisk following wind, consuming cars and buildings in a blanket of invisibility as it rolled toward the headland.
Try to butter sb up.
It had in it a hint of anger.
She opened her eyes and squirmed around in the long grass, to look back at the cliff path.
Two squabbling gulls called out in anger, hunting each other in and out of crevices in the lower reaches of the cliffs—then, silent, rose like ghosts, their slow powerful wingbeats carrying them high above Marie and the nuns.
I walk out on him. 我离开他。
Marie saw that, despite his easy running style, his face and neck were slathered in sweat.
Sister Anna panted short-windedly, as though she ran a race.
The question hung in the air.
It would call and call and I would strain to hear until, suddenly, it would fade from sight.
The old nun came forward, holding out her arms as to embrace her and as she touched her, holding her lightly, the tension left Marie’s body.
There was a creaking noise as the door opened, then a dull slam as it shut.
She would be vouchsafed a second vision.
She would go with the old and holy nun, would show the old nun those rocks, those twisted cypresses, the great shelf of cliff jutting out into the ocean, its surface newly seared by a cruciform scar.
... (Alexie 61). Even when confronted by the approachable Marie, John feels inadequate and inferior. He lies telling ... He is basically the only thing you can call a white Indian. However, John does not have ... awkwardly in the presence of so many Indians, Marie thinks "John [is] homeless an explanation for ... other tightly so much laughter that the refs called an official timeout," so appalled at what he ...
Sunlight goldened the room, casting long shadows.
I am afraid it might make it too much of a delegation.
Mother Paul fiddled with the truck’s gears as though dismissing him.
The truck was very noisy, its tailboards rattling, its engine coughing as it went off down the coastal road.
He picked up the tennis hat and put it on, positioning it to hide his wound.
His cheek bruise was less noticeable, his color was normal, the skin rosy, his eyes bright and alert.
Mother Paul looked at the girl’s troubled face, at eyes filled with anger and suspicion.
Mother St. Jude had willed the girl to stay for supper.
Marie Davenport was in the doorway, her finger to her lips, warning her to silence.
Sister Placidus and Sister Gonzaga bobbed their heads in farewell.
I am under no obligation to him, no obligation to whatsoever.
He could feel his adrenaline level rise.
Mrs. Evans carried out a phone and plugged it into a jack on the sun deck.
He recalled his cousin Ned phoning last evening from San Francisco, trying to enlist his aid.
An old woman in a dressing gown was strolling slowly up and down.
As she shut the closet door he came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, the tennis hat jammed down around his ears.
He held out his hands.
Why did Daniel butt in?
She went upstairs to the intensive-care unit in a purgatory of anxiety.
She went toward the bed and saw the flickering bouncing light of the monitor screen above it.
The intensive-care team, abandoning the other patient, surged around Alex’s bed.
She sat for some moments in sick indecision.
I can’t be of more help.
She stood by the door, trying to shut the television out.
He had an olive-skinned complexion and an athlete’s strong, muscled neck.
Lightning sheeted the heavens, throwing a spectral light on his face.
She saw him lean forward to consult his notes.
In the green center plot two blond long-haired boys sailed a Frisbee in graceful arcs, like discus throwers from another age.
The street outside was cleansed by thin, bright Northern California sunshine.
... frowning providence, he hides a smiling face. John 1:5 – “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness ... only remembers to turn on the light” – Albus Dumbledore Please bow your head and makes this prayer your own ... with mercy, and shall break in blessings on your head. Judge not the LORD by feeble sense, but ... who walked in darkness, have seen a great light. They lived in a land of shadows, but now ...
Her head moved in the dodder of age.
She watched as Daniel tucked a blanket around Alex and switched off the bed light.
We have got to humor him.
A man got out, rumpled, in an old sweater and floppy brown corduroy trousers, his thinning hair blowing up in aureole at the back of his head.
His brown eyes mirrored her joy.
He turned again to face her, looking at her as though he stood lost on the edge of some wild place, a person with no sense or who he was or why he was here.
Impatient in a stream of tourist cars cruising slowly through the streets of Carmel, Marie at last escaped the town and began to speed down the highway, her mind seesawing between what was happening to Alex and her encounter with God’s improbable functionary in his green madras slacks and purple tennis shirt.
To have scrupled against and feared this meeting for a whole year now seemed, like all overwhelming fears, foolish and unreasonable.
Monsignor found an ashtray and stubbed out his cigarette.
Ned hulled a strawberry and ate it.
He buttoned up his shirt.
All of this had been willed.
He gagged on the toast.
This is a reprieve, not an acquittal.
He swirled the juice around in his mouth.
She stared out at the sea mist coming in and felt a familiar twinge of guilt.
A mist came in, a mist like this one, enveloping them, isolating them.
You would better get that straight.
I knew I had been counted out, that’s why I was there.
Blinding light erased the shadows of the room.
The tennis hat spilled of his head.
He was wearing chino slacks, a long sleeved checked shirt, and brown loafers.
Something like the loaves and fishes, but with dollars and cents.
There was a silence in the community room, a tiny yet unmistakable hesitation.
Few nuns and fewer funds.
These nuns seemed just like the nuns she knew in her school days, their lives the opposite of any life she would wish for herself, their minds full of superstition and pious nonsense, their opinions not worthy of serious attention, their questions naïve as their faith.
A nun entered, a stout brisk woman in her fifties.
The other nuns rose and bowed to her in a gesture of respect.
... people going about their business, which is the light of his life.The forest on the other hand ... is that we see the village as a light place, whereas the forest is known for being ... and analyze two literary works, namely, Young Goodman Brown by Nathaniel Hawthorne and Rose For Emily by William ... has been getting about this whole expedition, but Brown reassures her that everything will be alright, and ...
The printed words danced in her mind.
She turned and walked past the main building with it barred, narrow, Spanish-style windows, its long covered veranda, its red stucco-tiled roof.
The old nun peered again over her spectacles.
Outside, the engine of the tourists’ car came to life.
In a special case there was a large doll, wearing a heavy silver crown, a rosary of white beads in its right hand and an infant cradled in the crook of its left arm.
The large doll was dressed in a garment of silk, sewn with gold lace.
Directly below Marie the main expanse of cliff was untouched by this wave spill.
The butterflies had come to the grounds of the inn to lead her on and now they glided ahead of her, enticing her as she stepped out onto the narrow path that led ostensibly toward the beach below.
Halfway down, this path forked, one trail continuing to the sea and the sands, the other winding upward, until it rounded a headland where the in was out of sight.
She drove past the sign, going in a the entrance and along a semicircular driveway ringed with a row of neat two-story units, the units grouped around a larger building, which was the office and dining room.
Here, gray-green hills eased down to empty beaches, past arroyos over which sea gulls wheeled and screamed.
McDuffies began to stride purposefully in pursuit, narrowing the gap between them and their quarry.
As he drew level he commanded his brain to deliver an identity.
Sara’s novel had brought her a certain fame and recently they had accumulated some amusing horror stories of her escapes from the importunities of fans.
When the movie was over, he tried to doze, but after a time got up and walked back into the tourist section of the plane, passing families sprawled in fretful tableaux, compulsive talkers hunched on the armrests of each other’s seats, sleepers in dark rows, shrouded in airline blankets.
He looked at and dismissed faces in his reflexive scan for a pretty girl.
In the midsection of the tourist compartment he edged his way past a line that was waiting for the toilet.
On the plane, its jet contrails streaking across America, she would be returning to Carmel, going back to that place she had sworn she would never visit again.
... advertising, information, and indication. OLEDs are also used in large-area light-emitting elements for general illumination. OLED s have a potential ... emerged within the past two decades and has the potential of becoming more energy-efficient then the existing light sources is ... In a nutshell, OLEDs have a potential of being large area, white-light sources that are * Bright, power-efficient and long ...
She tried to track it down, but could not.
He complained about this endless scrounging for money, but accepted the drudgery of it.
She sat at his desk in front of the orderly clutter of his pencils, his microscope, his slides, his notebooks.
She saw, affixed with a red push pin, a faded snapshot of Alex’s parents.
He had come out of the coffee shop and was slinking up behind her.
Everything around her went on as it had always gone on.
She moved past him into the street, where a light shower had made the pavement steam.
Ahead of her a light clicked green.
She scrabbled in one of her suitcases to find the little toilet case.
Like a thief she tiptoed through the darkened rooms.
The traffic thickened maddeningly, slowing to a rush-hour crawl.
She finished this helter-skelter packing.
Alex said those tests had nothing to do with his work, but that’s just what he would say if he were mixed up in some official secret.
What if he is suffering some sort of brain damage and is wandering around Nice, half dazed, no longer the master of his actions?
She saw a pair of old gym shoes caked with what looked like brown mud.
She went through the travel wallet, item by item.
I think they must have screwed up somehow.
It was a habit, smiling, people did it no matter what the circumstances.
The logical hypothesis is that someone removed the body from the morgue and spirited it out of the hospital.
Dr. Faure, a precise old man dressed in a brown double-breasted business suit with Legion of Honor boutonniere in his lapel.
She saw him eye her strangely.
He wore a seersucker suit, a whit button-down shirt, a red-and-blue striped tie and large, sensible, black brogues.
Even now it still seemed possible that Alex would walk in as he did when he came home from a trip, not thinking to kiss or hold her, but asking at once, “Hello. Anything important come up while I was gone?”
Lying there, she turned her head and looked up at the night, oranged by lights from the seafront.
The taxi went down the narrow streets, passed night-lit cafes and row on row of tightly parked cars.
... top was in the white light, followed by red light, blue light, yellow light and green light in which no spinach disks ... treatment was using white light, which didn’ ... different colors of light. Using filters, our variable treatments were green light, red light, blue light and yellow light. Our control ...
Alex’s face was very white, as though drained of blood.
She shut her eyes as though to shut out what was happening.
He was in critical condition for months.
She went out and asked about the toilets and the nurse at the desk directed her where to go.
She found her sandals and slipped them on.
A paramedic signaled her to wait.
She looked back at the sweep of hotels along the Promenade des Anglais.