The guest room was redone in race cars and Disney characters.
She trailed him down the hallway towards the guest parlor.
The guest room is open.
He was just a guest at Bird Song.
She's a house guest, not a prisoner.
The Deans shared a subdued silence as they boarded the Jeep to pick up their guest at the Beaumont.
The Deans drove the short distance to the Beaumont to pick up their guest, who was standing outside at the curb waiting for them.
Dean explained to their guest the winter power of Mother Nature.
Kris waited until the guest bedroom door closed before he motioned to one of the Immortals posted on either end of the hallway.
You're a guest, and if you happened to be hooked onto a good man, so be it.
The guest was relaxed, his penetrating gaze calm and weary.
There was an additional small guest room beneath the stairs on the main floor.
Cynthia gave their guest a hug and retreated down the hall to the Dean's quarters while Edith climbed the stairs.
Our guest registered as Edith Jones.
Dean told her Donnie was a guest at Bird Song and explained the lad, only slightly older than Martha, did not speak.
Next day, the third of March, soon after one o'clock, two hundred and fifty members of the English Club and fifty guests were awaiting the guest of honor and hero of the Austrian campaign, Prince Bagration, to dinner.
Bekleshev and Theodore Uvarov, who had arrived with him, paused at the doorway to allow him, as the guest of honor, to enter first.
Three hundred persons took their seats in the dining room, according to their rank and importance: the more important nearer to the honored guest, as naturally as water flows deepest where the land lies lowest.
The guest of honor was an aide-de-camp of Napoleon's, there were also several French officers of the Guard, and a page of Napoleon's, a young lad of an old aristocratic French family.
They received Pierre in their small, new drawing-room, where it was impossible to sit down anywhere without disturbing its symmetry, neatness, and order; so it was quite comprehensible and not strange that Berg, having generously offered to disturb the symmetry of an armchair or of the sofa for his dear guest, but being apparently painfully undecided on the matter himself, eventually left the visitor to settle the question of selection.
I'd rather have entertained my house guest than listened to his sniveling and begging but alas, I do what I have to do.
I hadn't considered that having a house guest would severely limit our chances for candid conversation.
My wife was as thrilled to entertain our guest as Molly was to be there.
No one could find Damian's HQ unless they were on the guest list, or one of his Guardians revealed its location.
Dean was no expert, but he could tell his guest was a first-class photographer.
They had knocked heads and locked wills over the death of a Bird Song guest during the prior January's Ice Climbing Festival when bitter words were exchanged.
Both remembered the last time they'd watched a guest meet with a stranger and the no-end-to trouble that followed.
The Deans' budget couldn't afford a freeloader, even a pleasant, philosophical guest, especially during a holiday week when the house was full.
She explained how a Bird Song guest, Brandon Westlake, who was a first-class photographer, had given her pointers.
As much as Dean wanted to press his guest on the possibility that the bones were those of her father, he realized such a question was tasteless and inappropriate.
Thoughts raced through his mind of another crash, when Bird Song's very first guest had met a similar fate—but on a traveled highway, not a remote Jeep road deep in the San Juans.
Her comments brought to mind the death of Bird Song's very first guest and the strange events that followed.
Fred followed Cynthia, asking more questions about the new guest as Dean shook his head in mild frustration.
She knew Kris.s chamber, the guest chamber, Katie.s chamber, and the dining hall.
With the creatures too distracted to notice her, Katie drew a breath and darted across the hall, shoving the door of the guest bedroom open.
The fortress around the courtyard was four stories tall and lined with wooden doors indicating guest rooms.
"I have something to show you," she said and took his hand, pulling him toward the guest rooms lining the small courtyard.
Kris watched the door to the guest bedchamber close, unusually hopeful about his discovery.
Hours later, she dropped onto the plush guest bed, clad in a T-shirt and underwear after a hot shower.
Katie pushed the door to her designated guest room and stripped out of the grease- stained, French fry scented clothing.
It wasn't a cheap plywood door with a simple push lock but a thick, wooden door as ancient as the hotel with deadbolts, as if Andre regularly locked prisoners in his guest room.
She stared at the walls, wondering who'd had the time to repaint her guest room.