I rushed to the front desk in a panic with Howie on my heels like a following puppy!
She made her way to the notebook near the desk phone.
"Let me see something," he said, striding to where his desk was.
He nodded as she plopped down at the desk and began to sketch on the paper, explaining as she drew.
The pile of mail she left on her desk was still there, the living room neat and quiet.
She crossed to the small desk and rustled around for the complimentary paper and pen.
Howie was at his desk before any of us on Monday morning.
She sat behind a desk and began asking me questions which I interrupted.
She looked around the area where his desk had been and spotted a perfume bottle similar to the one he'd give her before.
Her gaze went to her desk, and she realized she didn't even have a passport.
Comfortable in the plush office chair, she propped her feet up on her desk and continued to sketch until the picture began to look as she wanted it to.
As she shut the drawer, the envelopes on the top of the desk caught her attention.
I sat at the desk as he reclined on the bed, more suitable to his five foot seven frame.
I pictured her sitting at a desk, perhaps someone else listening in.
"Please don't tell me it's the same area where the attempted abduction took place," I said as I rolled back in my desk chair.
I introduced myself by name as I accepted the offered seat across from a large desk, the only other furniture in the small room.
She pulled a pen and paper off the desk in the corner and held them out to him.
Damian appeared to be waiting for him, perched on the corner of a mahogany desk with his arms crossed.
Sofia dropped her purse on the desk in her cube without removing her sunglasses.
She ran to her desk and pulled out a journal, jotting down her latest symptom.
It was hunched over a book large enough to cover half the black stone desk at which it sat.
As she watched, the creature rose and hobbled from the desk to a nearby shelf.
Wynn paced to the desk in one corner, pushing the papers around with frustration.
It was unclear if this action was prompted by Patsy Boyd herself or just some do-gooder trying to clear her desk of problems.
Because there's nobody standing in front of this desk screaming at me to do something, that's why.
He thanked her and she promised to keep the file on her desk, just in case.
He left it at the desk, as he wasn't up to the small talk a personal delivery would entail.
Impatiently waiting for her longtime surgeon, she pushed herself off the table and crossed to the desk, where a small folder sat.
He stepped back from the desk, as if fearing the compass would claim his soul right there.
She returned to the desk and scoured the paperwork for some sort of identifying information on the place she'd been or the company that developed the forms.
He squatted beside her, wrapping her arm in a clean white towel before he rose and strode to the desk along the far wall.
Her move toward the fire was reflected in a small mirror behind the desk in front of which he stood.
He perched on the edge of the desk, the fire casting shadows across his perfect, chiseled features.
At last he moved around the desk to a dark corner and withdrew a crystal carafe from a locked cabinet.
She lifted her head from her desk and blinked, the first fingers of dawn rendering the light of the room grainy and grey.
He unfolded it only when in the safety of his locked room and sat it down on the desk to stare at it.
She sat down at her desk and grabbed the waiting sketchpad.
He led him to the desk, raised the lid, drew out a drawer, and took out an exercise book filled with his bold, tall, close handwriting.
Dolokhov banged down the lid of his desk and turned to Anatole with an ironic smile:
She hesitated at Señor Medena's desk and he glanced up at her expectantly.
There was a desk in the middle of the room with voluminous piles of paper and notebooks.
Her gaze moved from the incredible view to the condo's owner, whose desk sat against the wall opposite her beside the windows.
He roared and slammed his hands on the desk at the far end of the library, unable to stop the images racing through his mind.
Dr. Worthington took responsibility for the clinic and Carmen found the accountant's number in the desk drawer.
His attention returning to the lap desk, he picked up the pencil as if ready to write something - and then put it down.
Deidre wiped away more tears and went to her messy desk, where a red-covered notebook sat on a pile of paper.
She considered debating with the nurse at the front desk, whose friendly grey eyes were familiar.
Dropping the papers on her computer desk, she then stripped off her coat and passed by the guest…Toby's room.
His gaze strayed to the desk, where Katie's file sat.
As she did every day, she went to the table near his cluttered desk to await her blood draw and any other experiments he wanted to do.
She relaxed into the comfortable black desk chair in front of her computer, wondering if Romas had told Evelyn of the half a dozen kids he expected.
Cynthia went to the hall desk and brought back an envelope.
The trio sat around the office desk, looking over one another's shoulders at the neat handwriting in the old notebook.
Suddenly, to his great joy he saw little Lucy Martin lean over her desk and whisper to the girl in front of her.
Then, suddenly, an awkward half-grown boy who sat right in front of the master's desk turned squarely around and whispered to Tommy Jones, three desks away.
The captain showed me Columbus's cabin and the desk with an hour-glass on it.
My furniture, part of which I made myself--and the rest cost me nothing of which I have not rendered an account--consisted of a bed, a table, a desk, three chairs, a looking-glass three inches in diameter, a pair of tongs and andirons, a kettle, a skillet, and a frying-pan, a dipper, a wash-bowl, two knives and forks, three plates, one cup, one spoon, a jug for oil, a jug for molasses, and a japanned lamp.
The large table covered with books and plans, the tall glass-fronted bookcases with keys in the locks, the high desk for writing while standing up, on which lay an open exercise book, and the lathe with tools laid ready to hand and shavings scattered around--all indicated continuous, varied, and orderly activity.
In his large study, the walls of which were hung to the ceiling with Persian rugs, bearskins, and weapons, sat Dolokhov in a traveling cloak and high boots, at an open desk on which lay an abacus and some bundles of paper money.
We took seats on an old leather sofa and side chair while our hostess sat behind the desk that dominated the room.
Finally, we condensed everything on a small computer thumb drive which we hid in the removable base of a desk lamp.
He sat behind his desk and motioned me to a side chair.
They probably got my blood sample mixed up.