Word: blackly
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Dates: during 1880-1880
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First, Antigone, I will give you a black eye, to indicate that you must not scribble on my easel again; and long flowing hair, to show that you are in love. For this I take yellow ochre and gamboge, not too much of either, with a slight infusion of chiaroscuro. She shall have a blue tunic like the Sienese madonnas, spotted with little stars. For this, take cobalt, Mars orange, and Chinese white, about half and half. Her feet must be delicately sandalled, as if to walk only on a bed of roses. Around her neck there must...
...surprised to find a most peculiar odor in the carriage, but the Doctor quickly explained that it was nothing but the odor of a strong dose his friend had been obliged to take to strengthen herself for the journey. All this time the lady, who was dressed in black and closely veiled, never said a word; and as soon as we were off I addressed her a few words, and finding she did not answer left her to herself, thinking perhaps she was too tired to converse...
...following were the involuntary contributions of Boston young ladies to the success of the great students' political procession: sixty-five handkerchiefs, of which eleven are of silk; one black and white shawl; and various pieces of hats. All these articles serve now as trophies in the rooms of some of the students...
...window, and how they screamed! I howled at them for very joy, and I felt the engine leap forward under me; they had cast off the train, and away we flew, the engine and I. Now the stations flew by, bright as live coals in a black, burnt desert, and the men shrank back as I flew away. There were lights ahead, a passenger train, hurrah! death is close after them; the train goes fast, but I fly like the wind. See, there is a station, they will have a rare show. But the engine staggers and stops, the wheels...
...shone on the snow, as we left the village together! He smiled and joked, and the moonlight sparkled on the silver plates of his dagger-sheath, and the crisp diamonds crackled under our feet as we walked along. Now the village lights were sunk in the distance, and the black shadows of the Ardennes stretched out ghostly arms to meet us, to receive us in their gloomy embrace. Did he not remember the blow, did he not remember Madelon? He shivered as a long howl rang like music in my ears, and murmured to himself that a cross-bow would...