Was that where his father got all that money?
"Where are you?" he asked.
I'll show you where you can sleep.
Where were they, anyway?
I also have an offer to work at the law office where I worked last summer.
Where did you plan to sleep tonight?
That's where my part came from.
Well, it's nice to know where I stand.
Show me where we might eat.
"Now tell us, father," whispered Charlot, "where did you find him?"
That device can track where you are at any time.
"Where is he now?" she asked.
You know where the fountain is?
They finally reached the creek, where Giddon stopped long enough to scoop her into his arms.
"Why did you tell us where to find it?" he asked.
Another favourite haunt of mine was the orchard, where the fruit ripened early in July.
Eventually we reach the point where the technology does everything we need it to do.
So he went to the other hotel, where he found the vice president sitting with some friends in the parlor.
One day a traveler was walking through a part of Italy where a great many sheep were pasturing.
He took the children far away to a green valley where his flocks were feeding.
So he called Tikhon and went through the rooms with him to show him where to set up the bed for that night.
So how about this instead: What if I can show you a future where everyone on the planet will live in good health as long as it is possible for their body to live?
Under the most splendid house in the city is still to be found the cellar where they store their roots as of old, and long after the superstructure has disappeared posterity remark its dent in the earth.
Where does all the rain water go?
It was a place where good people, and timid, helpless people could find shelter in time of war.
And not just where do they go, but where is it that people drive the farthest to get to?
I think that the man is at a dead set who has got through a knot-hole or gateway where his sledge load of furniture cannot follow him.
Any idea where she is tonight?
Crash after crash echoed far above their heads, as the earth came together where it had split, and stones and chunks of clay rattled around them on every side.
Where do you carry your gold?
There was no place where he could set his foot to climb out.
Certainly, you don't want the whole world to know where you were last night.
I could also feel the stamping of the horses, which they had ridden out from town and hitched under the trees, where they stood all night, neighing loudly, impatient to be off.
"I want him to know where I am in case he returns," she said, flipping open her phone.
He had no paper, but he knew where there was a smooth board.
Sometimes he carried three or four bags to the palace where the little king of France lived with his mother.
If my reasoning elsewhere in this book is correct, we are moving toward a future where there will be nothing but healthy, well-developed, rich countries with modern infrastructure.
Where the mowers mow the cleanest, Where the hay lies thick and greenest, There to trace the homeward bee, That's the way for Billy and me.
So it was decided that the boy should go to some school where he might be prepared for college.
You can see where this is headed.
Where is this division of labor to end? and what object does it finally serve?
It is the same as if all these traps were buckled to a man's belt, and he could not move over the rough country where our lines are cast without dragging them--dragging his trap.
In a side street near the crossroads where the vehicles had stopped, a house and some shops were on fire.
How much more complex than this is the game of war, which occurs under certain limits of time, and where it is not one will that manipulates lifeless objects, but everything results from innumerable conflicts of various wills!
First, it will consider all your friends, people with whom you have actual intimate relationships, and it will look at where they go for Italian food.
She spent the night of the fourteenth as usual, without undressing, in the room next to the one where the prince lay.
She returned to the garden and sat down on the grass at the foot of the slope by the pond, where no one could see her.
In the vicinity of Bogucharovo were large villages belonging to the crown or to owners whose serfs paid quitrent and could work where they pleased.
An Englishwoman who saw the process in Turkey in the early 1700s brought it back to England, where it was proven to be effective.
Among the places I visited were West Point, Tarrytown, the home of Washington Irving, where I walked through "Sleepy Hollow."
I lived with several others in one of the pleasant houses connected with the school, the house where Mr. Howells used to live, and we all had the advantage of home life.
Where did Leila get new baby?
But where is Sonya?
"Do you or do you not know where that will is?" insisted Prince Vasili, his cheeks twitching more than ever.
Suddenly he heard musket fire quite close in front of him and behind our troops, where he could never have expected the enemy to be.
The servants came out to meet them, and he asked where the old prince was and whether he was expected back soon.
At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where he had left his purchases.
As birds migrate to somewhere beyond the sea, so these men with their wives and children streamed to the southeast, to parts where none of them had ever been.
For herself she did not care where she remained or what happened to her, but she felt herself the representative of her dead father and of Prince Andrew.
On the way to Bogucharovo, a princely estate with a dwelling house and farm where they hoped to find many domestic serfs and pretty girls, they questioned Lavrushka about Napoleon and laughed at his stories, and raced one another to try Ilyin's horse.
They rode at a footpace to the barn, where a large crowd of peasants was standing.
She asked him where he had been.
Right now she didn't care where they were.
Where it is written how we are to make a child?
Show me where we might eat.
Well, it's nice to know where I stand.
On the other hand, Alex needed to be in a position where he was forced to actually talk to his father.
Keep Destiny away from where I shot it.
"Where is Lincoln?" asked one.
Where have you been?
At a place where two roads crossed, they saw a tall gentleman coming to meet them.
Where the hazel bank is steepest, Where the shadow falls the deepest, Where the clustering nuts fall free, That's the way for Billy and me.
He knew where the old North Church stood, but he could not see much in the darkness.
"Where? where?" he asked.
A farmer is as good as any other man; and where there's no room for a farmer, there can be no room for me.
To do this, he had to take them to a large city where there was a slave market.
He went across the narrow yard to the sheds where the cattle were kept in stormy weather.
He lived in a splendid palace where there was everything that could give delight.
At one end of the room there was a big fireplace, where the mother did the cooking.
Soon they came into the main road where a number of the king's men were waiting.
Where shall we find the wisest man?
Examining history is not like gazing into some fantasy crystal ball, where what we see is prophetic in detail.
Where everyone can live up to his or her maximum potential.
No more trying to retrace your steps to find your car keys; you can see where you left them by checking your GPS system records.
Not just that you went to a certain address but that the address was a movie theater and—based on where you sat and that you ordered tickets online—you saw Episode VII of Star Wars.
Of course, Wikipedia is another textbook example where people toil for no payment, and anonymously as well.
But give credit where credit is due: For certain tasks, machines perform vastly better than humans.
You need an answer to a basic question: "Where should I go for Italian food?"
But in a world where great wisdom is available to everyone, the end of ignorance will be within our grasp.
The data shows pockets where radish efficacy is substantially higher and others where it is nonexistent.
Most cases aren't like our jelly bean example where each person had the items the other person wanted.
A genetically engineered tree that converts sunlight into fuel and then pumps the fuel through its roots to where it is needed.
A competing company decides to make an up-front investment and build a new factory in a distant land, high in the mountains where residents who choose to live there have less economic opportunity.
In parts of the world where these three ingredients exist, we have seen prosperity rise.
We are about to enter a world where robots do more and more of our work for us.
We have reached the point where many items can only be made by robots.
Recently, my ten-year-old son and I visited the factory in Denmark where Lego building blocks are made.
Robots can work without ceasing in environments where the temperature is a thousand degrees.
The house will know where everything in it is; you will never again lose your keys or your child's favorite stuffed animal.
But I expect that technology and free enterprise will take us across a threshold where things formerly regarded as scarce will not be so any more.
The rich, of course, got very clever about where they earned and reported income.
Where I come from the term is "thievery," but believe it or not, they don't call it that.
Countries where it is $33,000 tax at 40 percent.
Now, consider the Alaska Permanent Fund, a fund established in 1976 where a portion of the revenue from the sale of oil from Alaska's public lands is deposited.
In a world where only one tool is invented, a hoe, there will be no billionaires.
But I am not talking about a state of affairs where overnight someone with a "machine job" gets unlimited wealth.
We live in a place and time where we own thousands of things we could not have made.
Governments create entitlements due to public demand for them, and public demand exists where the need is not filled.
This is the case on genetically modified crops and many other issues where passions run high.
So the current frustrating situation, where so many people have such wildly divergent understandings about nutrition, will fade away.
All of these are sorely lacking in areas where hunger is most prevalent.
In societies where a large percentage of income is necessary just to buy food, having volatile food prices will mean hunger sooner or later, no matter how good the factory jobs are.
Africa, where half the world's hungry citizens reside, has additional challenges.
Additionally, we had a five-acre garden where we grew everything you can grow in East Texas.
I foresee a day when, on a Sunday afternoon, a family might drive (or actually be driven by their car) out to a farm to see where food comes from.
Where transgenesis offers the most amazing possibilities is in GM foods because it allows plants to exceed their maximum genetic potential.
VAD occurs mostly in Africa and South East Asia where rice is the staple food.
Every day fewer places exist where a single person has legal right to end the life of another.
You could have the libertarian state, the green state, the clothing-optional state, the state with free public housing for all, the state where puns are outlawed, the state with a two-drink minimum, the fiercely pro-business state—even a state that guarantees free speech but requires that you sing your speech like a show tune.
In warfare, asymmetry is where something very small can do a huge amount of damage.
In military alliances, however, it is much likelier that when nations choose their friends, they create enemies where there were none before.
But maybe as a civilization, we have to talk out loud to figure out where we stand, to make progress.
This is starkly different than if violence breaks out in a distant, unreal place where the only flow of information is from official sources.
We have seen it most recently and most profoundly in the Arab Spring, where the motto we see again and again is Ash-sha'b yurid isqat an-nizam, or "The people want to bring down the regime."
The article also describes a second project where a group of young entrepreneurs who look as if they could be in a garage band are fitting deceptively innocent-looking hardware into a prototype 'Internet in a suitcase.'
In Montana, where 10 percent of residents spoke German and another 10 percent were of German descent, ministers weren't allowed to preach in German to congregants who understood no English, and one town publicly burned German textbooks, the Bozeman Daily Chronicle reported.
From the way I have written this, it is clear where my sympathies lie.
We are entering a point where technology will change at extreme speeds.
Love it or hate it, this seems to be where we are going.
In the United States, where we have mostly Democrats and Republicans, life is largely the same no matter who is in charge.
But a world without want and without disease, a world with opportunity for all, is a world where getting along—even when we don't see eye to eye—is going to be a good bit easier.
Then he went to live in the leafy pool at the end of the garden, where he made the summer nights musical with his quaint love-song.
But where is it now?
After spending a few days in Evangeline's country, about which Longfellow's beautiful poem has woven a spell of enchantment, Miss Sullivan and I went to Halifax, where we remained the greater part of the summer.
As soon as my examinations were over, Miss Sullivan and I hastened to this green nook, where we have a little cottage on one of the three lakes for which Wrentham is famous.
I go to see him whenever I happen to be where he is acting.
The reception-room where we sat served for a stage.
When the Perkins Institution closed in June, Helen and her teacher went south to Tuscumbia, where they remained until December.
In the summer they attended the meeting at Chautauqua of the American Association for the Promotion of the Teaching of Speech to the Deaf, where Miss Sullivan read a paper on Helen Keller's education.
The play seemed so real, we almost forgot where we were, and believed we were watching the genuine scenes as they were acted so long ago.
We visited our good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Chamberlin, at Wrentham, out in the country, where they have a lovely home.
Their house stands near a charming lake where we went boating and canoeing, which was great fun.
But somehow, I should prefer to see the originals in the place where Genius meant them to remain, not only as a hymn of praise to the gods, but also as a monument of the glory of Greece.
I stood in the middle of the church, where the vibrations from the great organ were strongest, and I felt the mighty waves of sound beat against me, as the great billows beat against a little ship at sea.
Long corrections she wrote out on her typewriter, with catch-words to indicate where they belonged.
Where another can go, she can go.
When she felt a bas-relief of dancing girls she asked, "Where are the singers?"
She gropes her way without much certainty in rooms where she is quite familiar.
My first question was, "Where is Helen?"
Helen evidently knew where she was as soon as she touched the boxwood hedges, and made many signs which I did not understand.
She stumbled upon Belle, who was crouching near the window where Captain Keller was standing.
We almost live in the garden, where everything is growing and blooming and glowing.
If I say, "Where is baby's other ear?" she points it out correctly.
When the sun got round to the window where she was sitting with her book, she got up impatiently and shut the window.
Where are many shells?
How did doctor know where to find baby?
Where did doctor find Guy and Prince?
It was no doubt because of this ignorance that I rushed in where more experienced angels fear to tread.
I took Helen and my Botany, "How Plants Grow," up in the tree, where we often go to read and study, and I told her in simple words the story of plantlife.
The other day Helen came across the word grandfather in a little story and asked her mother, "Where is grandfather?" meaning her grandfather.
In my account of Helen last year, I mentioned several instances where she seemed to have called into use an inexplicable mental faculty; but it now seems to me, after carefully considering the matter, that this power may be explained by her perfect familiarity with the muscular variations of those with whom she comes into contact, caused by their emotions.
On her return to the house after her visit to the cemetery, she ran to the closet where these toys were kept, and carried them to my friend, saying, "They are poor little Florence's."
I do not know where he was going because he was a little strange boy.
There was a hopeless look in the dull eye that I could not help noticing, and then, as I was thinking where I had seen that horse before, she looked full at me and said, 'Black Beauty, is that you?'
"Were did I come from?" and "Where shall I go when I die?" were questions Helen asked when she was eight years old.
I think my mother got me from heaven, but I do not know where that place is.
After May, 1890, it was evident to me that she had reached a point where it was impossible to keep from her the religious beliefs held by those with whom she was in daily contact.
Where was I before I came to mother?
Where did He get the soil, and the water, and the seeds, and the first animals?
When asked if she would not like to live ALWAYS in a beautiful country called heaven, her first question was, "Where is heaven?"
She asked: Where is heaven, and what is it like?
Miss Sullivan has begun where Dr. Howe left off.
True, single words do suggest and express ideas; the child may say simply "mamma" when he means "Where is mamma?" but he learns the expression of the ideas that relate to mamma--he learns language--by hearing complete sentences.
I inquired of her where she had read this; she did not remember having read it, did not seem to know that she had learned it.
Here again, I am unable to state where she acquired these expressions.
As we had never seen or heard of any such story as this before, we inquired of her where she read it; she replied, "I did not read it; it is my story for Mr. Anagnos's birthday."
Helen and I spent the summer of 1888 with Mrs. Hopkins at her home in Brewster, Mass., where she kindly relieved me a part of the time, of the care of Helen.
I would run, skip, jump and swing, no matter where I happened to be.
These extracts are from her exercises in her course in composition, where she showed herself at the beginning of her college life quite without rival among her classmates.
From the top of the hill where I stood I saw my army surging over a sunlit plain like angry breakers, and as they moved, I saw the green of fields, like the cool hollows between billows.
I would rather sit in the open air, for no dust gathers on the grass, unless where man has broken ground.
Men say, practically, Begin where you are and such as you are, without aiming mainly to become of more worth, and with kindness aforethought go about doing good.
I have thus surveyed the country on every side within a dozen miles of where I live.
This was an airy and unplastered cabin, fit to entertain a travelling god, and where a goddess might trail her garments.
It was not so much within doors as behind a door where I sat, even in the rainiest weather.
If a man should walk through this town and see only the reality, where, think you, would the "Mill-dam" go to?
I read one or two shallow books of travel in the intervals of my work, till that employment made me ashamed of myself, and I asked where it was then that I lived.
The Fitchburg Railroad touches the pond about a hundred rods south of where I dwell.
But their dogs, where are they?
To walk in a winter morning in a wood where these birds abounded, their native woods, and hear the wild cockerels crow on the trees, clear and shrill for miles over the resounding earth, drowning the feebler notes of other birds--think of it!
I have my horizon bounded by woods all to myself; a distant view of the railroad where it touches the pond on the one hand, and of the fence which skirts the woodland road on the other.
But for the most part it is as solitary where I live as on the prairies.
The place where that may occur is always the same, and indescribably pleasant to all our senses.
A man thinking or working is always alone, let him be where he will.
It would be better if there were but one inhabitant to a square mile, as where I live.
Frequently he would leave his dinner in the bushes, when his dog had caught a woodchuck by the way, and go back a mile and a half to dress it and leave it in the cellar of the house where he boarded, after deliberating first for half an hour whether he could not sink it in the pond safely till nightfall--loving to dwell long upon these themes.
These take place only in communities where some have got more than is sufficient while others have not enough.
Viewed from a hilltop it reflects the color of the sky; but near at hand it is of a yellowish tint next the shore where you can see the sand, then a light green, which gradually deepens to a uniform dark green in the body of the pond.
This is that portion, also, where in the spring, the ice being warmed by the heat of the sun reflected from the bottom, and also transmitted through the earth, melts first and forms a narrow canal about the still frozen middle.
This is particularly distinct to one standing on the middle of the pond in winter, just after a light snow has fallen, appearing as a clear undulating white line, unobscured by weeds and twigs, and very obvious a quarter of a mile off in many places where in summer it is hardly distinguishable close at hand.
In the warmest weather I usually placed a pailful in my cellar, where it became cool in the night, and remained so during the day; though I also resorted to a spring in the neighborhood.
You may see from a boat, in calm weather, near the sandy eastern shore, where the water is eight or ten feet deep, and also in some other parts of the pond, some circular heaps half a dozen feet in diameter by a foot in height, consisting of small stones less than a hen's egg in size, where all around is bare sand.
I have in my mind's eye the western, indented with deep bays, the bolder northern, and the beautifully scalloped southern shore, where successive capes overlap each other and suggest unexplored coves between.
There is no rawness nor imperfection in its edge there, as where the axe has cleared a part, or a cultivated field abuts on it.
I see where the breeze dashes across it by the streaks or flakes of light.
Where is the country's champion, the Moore of Moore Hill, to meet him at the Deep Cut and thrust an avenging lance between the ribs of the bloated pest?
Let our lakes receive as true names at least as the Icarian Sea, where "still the shore" a "brave attempt resounds."
As near as he could remember, it stood twelve or fifteen rods from the shore, where the water was thirty or forty feet deep.
Several pretty large logs may still be seen lying on the bottom, where, owing to the undulation of the surface, they look like huge water snakes in motion.
Instead of the white lily, which requires mud, or the common sweet flag, the blue flag (Iris versicolor) grows thinly in the pure water, rising from the stony bottom all around the shore, where it is visited by hummingbirds in June; and the color both of its bluish blades and its flowers and especially their reflections, is in singular harmony with the glaucous water.
She flourishes most alone, far from the towns where they reside.
But the only true America is that country where you are at liberty to pursue such a mode of life as may enable you to do without these, and where the state does not endeavor to compel you to sustain the slavery and war and other superfluous expenses which directly or indirectly result from the use of such things.
Men come tamely home at night only from the next field or street, where their household echoes haunt, and their life pines because it breathes its own breath over again; their shadows, morning and evening, reach farther than their daily steps.
Who would live there where a body can never think for the barking of Bose?
Angleworms are rarely to be met with in these parts, where the soil was never fattened with manure; the race is nearly extinct.
I would advise you to set in the spade down yonder among the ground-nuts, where you see the johnswort waving.
Let me see; where was I?
I formerly saw the raccoon in the woods behind where my house is built, and probably still heard their whinnering at night.
I had dug out the spring and made a well of clear gray water, where I could dip up a pailful without roiling it, and thither I went for this purpose almost every day in midsummer, when the pond was warmest.
Suddenly your adversary's checker disappears beneath the board, and the problem is to place yours nearest to where his will appear again.
I found that it was as well for me to rest on my oars and wait his reappearing as to endeavor to calculate where he would rise; for again and again, when I was straining my eyes over the surface one way, I would suddenly be startled by his unearthly laugh behind me.
Though the sky was by this time overcast, the pond was so smooth that I could see where he broke the surface when I did not hear him.
Already, by the first of September, I had seen two or three small maples turned scarlet across the pond, beneath where the white stems of three aspens diverged, at the point of a promontory, next the water.
Should not every apartment in which man dwells be lofty enough to create some obscurity overhead, where flickering shadows may play at evening about the rafters?
I had the previous winter made a small quantity of lime by burning the shells of the Unio fluviatilis, which our river affords, for the sake of the experiment; so that I knew where my materials came from.
There are many furrows in the sand where some creature has travelled about and doubled on its tracks; and, for wrecks, it is strewn with the cases of caddis-worms made of minute grains of white quartz.
In previous years I had often gone prospecting over some bare hillside, where a pitch pine wood had formerly stood, and got out the fat pine roots.
Where now firm open fields stretch from the village to the woods, it then ran through a maple swamp on a foundation of logs, the remnants of which, doubtless, still underlie the present dusty highway, from the Stratton, now the Alms-House Farm, to Brister's Hill.
Here, by the very corner of my field, still nearer to town, Zilpha, a colored woman, had her little house, where she spun linen for the townsfolk, making the Walden Woods ring with her shrill singing, for she had a loud and notable voice.
Not long since I read his epitaph in the old Lincoln burying-ground, a little on one side, near the unmarked graves of some British grenadiers who fell in the retreat from Concord--where he is styled "Sippio Brister"--Scipio Africanus he had some title to be called--"a man of color," as if he were discolored.
He gazed into the cellar from all sides and points of view by turns, always lying down to it, as if there was some treasure, which he remembered, concealed between the stones, where there was absolutely nothing but a heap of bricks and ashes.
Once more, on the left, where are seen the well and lilac bushes by the wall, in the now open field, lived Nutting and Le Grosse.
Farther in the woods than any of these, where the road approaches nearest to the pond, Wyman the potter squatted, and furnished his townsmen with earthenware, and left descendants to succeed him.
Sometimes the well dent is visible, where once a spring oozed; now dry and tearless grass; or it was covered deep--not to be discovered till some late day--with a flat stone under the sod, when the last of the race departed.
Walden, being like the rest usually bare of snow, or with only shallow and interrupted drifts on it, was my yard where I could walk freely when the snow was nearly two feet deep on a level elsewhere and the villagers were confined to their streets.
It is frequently covered up by drifts, and, it is said, "sometimes plunges from on wing into the soft snow, where it remains concealed for a day or two."
I used to start them in the open land also, where they had come out of the woods at sunset to "bud" the wild apple trees.
They will come regularly every evening to particular trees, where the cunning sportsman lies in wait for them, and the distant orchards next the woods suffer thus not a little.
They tell me that if the fox would remain in the bosom of the frozen earth he would be safe, or if he would run in a straight line away no foxhound could overtake him; but, having left his pursuers far behind, he stops to rest and listen till they come up, and when he runs he circles round to his old haunts, where the hunters await him.
Early in the morning, while all things are crisp with frost, men come with fishing-reels and slender lunch, and let down their fine lines through the snowy field to take pickerel and perch; wild men, who instinctively follow other fashions and trust other authorities than their townsmen, and by their goings and comings stitch towns together in parts where else they would be ripped.
In order to see how nearly I could guess, with this experience, at the deepest point in a pond, by observing the outlines of a surface and the character of its shores alone, I made a plan of White Pond, which contains about forty-one acres, and, like this, has no island in it, nor any visible inlet or outlet; and as the line of greatest breadth fell very near the line of least breadth, where two opposite capes approached each other and two opposite bays receded, I ventured to mark a point a short distance from the latter line, but still on the line of greatest length, as the deepest.
Such a rule of the two diameters not only guides us toward the sun in the system and the heart in man, but draws lines through the length and breadth of the aggregate of a man's particular daily behaviors and waves of life into his coves and inlets, and where they intersect will be the height or depth of his character.
It is true, we are such poor navigators that our thoughts, for the most part, stand off and on upon a harborless coast, are conversant only with the bights of the bays of poesy, or steer for the public ports of entry, and go into the dry docks of science, where they merely refit for this world, and no natural currents concur to individualize them.
Perhaps I shall hear a solitary loon laugh as he dives and plumes himself, or shall see a lonely fisher in his boat, like a floating leaf, beholding his form reflected in the waves, where lately a hundred men securely labored.
It commonly opens about the first of April, a week or ten days later than Flint's Pond and Fair Haven, beginning to melt on the north side and in the shallower parts where it began to freeze.
So, also, every one who has waded about the shores of the pond in summer must have perceived how much warmer the water is close to the shore, where only three or four inches deep, than a little distance out, and on the surface where it is deep, than near the bottom.
When the frost comes out in the spring, and even in a thawing day in the winter, the sand begins to flow down the slopes like lava, sometimes bursting out through the snow and overflowing it where no sand was to be seen before.
Where was the parent which hatched it, its kindred, and its father in the heavens?
We need to witness our own limits transgressed, and some life pasturing freely where we never wander.
If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be.
For the most part, we are not where we are, but in a false position.
It is life near the bone where it is sweetest.
I sat at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance, and obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable board.
The learned societies and great men of Assyria--where are they?
We know not where we are.
It was not always dry land where we dwell.
If I had known how to name them, I should then have signed off in detail from all the societies which I never signed on to; but I did not know where to find a complete list.
When the door was locked, he showed me where to hang my hat, and how he managed matters there.
Probably this is the only house in the town where verses are composed, which are afterward printed in a circular form, but not published.
Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and lowered his legs.
He looked inquiringly at his monitress and saw that she was again going on tiptoe to the reception room where they had left Prince Vasili and the eldest princess.
Not only where you are--at the heart of affairs and of the world--is the talk all of war, even here amid fieldwork and the calm of nature--which townsfolk consider characteristic of the country--rumors of war are heard and painfully felt.
At the appointed hour the prince, powdered and shaven, entered the dining room.
Come now, where has this great commander of yours shown his skill? he concluded.
"And where is Lise?" he asked, answering her question only by a smile.
"Where is Dolokhov?" asked Kutuzov.
On seeing Rostov, Denisov screwed up his face and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to the room where Telyanin was sitting, he frowned and gave a shudder of disgust.
But where are you off to?
Where have you put it, Wostov?
Where is it? he asked, turning to Lavrushka.
It must be where you put it.
The gun rang out with a deafening metallic roar, and a whistling grenade flew above the heads of our troops below the hill and fell far short of the enemy, a little smoke showing the spot where it burst.
Two of the enemy's shots had already flown across the bridge, where there was a crush.
"Where are you going?" asked an infantry officer who was eating an apple, also half smiling as he looked at the handsome girl.
Where are you shoving to?
"Just see where it carries to!" a soldier near by said sternly, looking round at the sound.
On the high ground where the enemy was, the smoke of a cannon rose, and a ball flew whistling over the heads of the hussar squadron.
Five minutes later he returned and bowing with particular courtesy ushered Prince Andrew before him along a corridor to the cabinet where the Minister of War was at work.
If not it is merely a question of settling where the preliminaries of the new Campo Formio are to be drawn up.
"I cannot inform Your Majesty at what o'clock the battle began at the front, but at Durrenstein, where I was, our attack began after five in the afternoon," replied Bolkonski growing more animated and expecting that he would have a chance to give a reliable account, which he had ready in his mind, of all he knew and had seen.
From where to where, Your Majesty?
But where do you come from not to know what every coachman in the town knows?
"Where are you off to?" he said suddenly to Prince Andrew who had risen and was going toward his room.
Where and why are you going, when you might remain here?
That same night, having taken leave of the Minister of War, Bolkonski set off to rejoin the army, not knowing where he would find it and fearing to be captured by the French on the way to Krems.
Wishing to find out where the commander-in-chief was, he rode up to a convoy.
"Where is the commander-in-chief?" asked Bolkonski.
And God only knows where your man Peter is, said the other adjutant.
Prince Andrew glanced at Kutuzov's face only a foot distant from him and involuntarily noticed the carefully washed seams of the scar near his temple, where an Ismail bullet had pierced his skull, and the empty eye socket.
Our front line and that of the enemy were far apart on the right and left flanks, but in the center where the men with a flag of truce had passed that morning, the lines were so near together that the men could see one another's faces and speak to one another.
Dolokhov had come from the left flank where their regiment was stationed, with his captain.
From the bottom of the slope, where the parleys had taken place, came the report of musketry.
But where and how will my Toulon present itself?
No one had given Tushin orders where and at what to fire, but after consulting his sergeant major, Zakharchenko, for whom he had great respect, he had decided that it would be a good thing to set fire to the village.
Prince Bagration, having reached the highest point of our right flank, began riding downhill to where the roll of musketry was heard but where on account of the smoke nothing could be seen.
The commander of the regiment turned to Prince Bagration, entreating him to go back as it was too dangerous to remain where they were.
He was seized by panic and could not go where it was dangerous.
Having reached the left flank, instead of going to the front where the firing was, he began to look for the general and his staff where they could not possibly be, and so did not deliver the order.
Where our men were, and where the French, he did not know.
Where our men were, and where the French, he did not know.
"Where, on which side, was now the line that had so sharply divided the two armies?" he asked himself and could not answer.
The first thing he saw on riding up to the space where Tushin's guns were stationed was an unharnessed horse with a broken leg, that lay screaming piteously beside the harnessed horses.
And where is the wounded officer?
All remained where they were in the middle of the muddy road.
I don't know where... such bad luck!
He had arranged this for himself so as to visit his neglected estates at the same time and pick up his son Anatole where his regiment was stationed, and take him to visit Prince Nicholas Bolkonski in order to arrange a match for him with the daughter of that rich old man.
At the head of the table, where the honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits and under the influence of a variety of exciting sensations.
While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for a long time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they were sitting.
"Where is the princess?" he asked.
He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stood with bowed head.
It's not as at Annette's * receptions where you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!
He asked him to tell them how and where he got his wound.
He did not find Prince Andrew in Olmutz that day, but the appearance of the town where the headquarters and the diplomatic corps were stationed and the two Emperors were living with their suites, households, and courts only strengthened his desire to belong to that higher world.
Boris thanked him and went to the reception room, where he found some ten officers and generals.
At dawn on the sixteenth of November, Denisov's squadron, in which Nicholas Rostov served and which was in Prince Bagration's detachment, moved from the place where it had spent the night, advancing into action as arranged, and after going behind other columns for about two thirds of a mile was stopped on the highroad.
Shortly after nine o'clock that evening, Weyrother drove with his plans to Kutuzov's quarters where the council of war was to be held.
At the moment he opened his eyes he heard in front of him, where the enemy was, the long-drawn shouts of thousands of voices.
Over there, where the shouting came from, a fire flared up and went out again, then another, and all along the French line on the hill fires flared up and the shouting grew louder and louder.
"The picket is still on the hill, your excellency, just where it was in the evening," reported Rostov, stooping forward with his hand at the salute and unable to repress the smile of delight induced by his ride and especially by the sound of the bullets.
The column moved forward without knowing where and unable, from the masses around them, the smoke and the increasing fog, to see either the place they were leaving or that to which they were going.
Every soldier felt glad to know that to the unknown place where he was going, many more of our men were going too.
The fog that was dispersing on the hill lay still more densely below, where they were descending.
The fog lay unbroken like a sea down below, but higher up at the village of Schlappanitz where Napoleon stood with his marshals around him, it was quite light.
"You know, Michael Ilarionovich, we are not on the Empress' Field where a parade does not begin till all the troops are assembled," said the Tsar with another glance at the Emperor Francis, as if inviting him if not to join in at least to listen to what he was saying.
Confused and ever-increasing crowds were running back to where five minutes before the troops had passed the Emperors.
Give it them! he mentally exclaimed at these sounds, and again proceeded to gallop along the line, penetrating farther and farther into the region where the army was already in action.
At that moment, as the Horse Guards, having passed him, disappeared in the smoke, Rostov hesitated whether to gallop after them or to go where he was sent.
"Where are you off to?" asked Boris.
Having passed the Guards and traversed an empty space, Rostov, to avoid again getting in front of the first line as he had done when the Horse Guards charged, followed the line of reserves, going far round the place where the hottest musket fire and cannonade were heard.
And here, where at any moment the Emperor may see them....
Where is the Emperor?
Where is he to go?
Rostov considered, and then went in the direction where they said he would be killed.
He rode on to the region where the greatest number of men had perished in fleeing from Pratzen.
The French, who had ceased firing at this field strewn with dead and wounded where there was no one left to fire at, on seeing an adjutant riding over it trained a gun on him and fired several shots.
No one whom Rostov asked could tell him where the Emperor or Kutuzov was.
And he turned round and galloped back to the place where he had seen the Emperor, but there was no one beyond the ditch now.
On the Pratzen Heights, where he had fallen with the flagstaff in his hand, lay Prince Andrew Bolkonski bleeding profusely and unconsciously uttering a gentle, piteous, and childlike moan.
"Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know till now, but saw today?" was his first thought.
But where am I?
How good it would be to know where to seek for help in this life, and what to expect after it beyond the grave!
There's the corner at the crossroads, where the cabman, Zakhar, has his stand, and there's Zakhar himself and still the same horse!
And here's the little shop where we used to buy gingerbread!
Where are the candles?...
Sonya ran away, but Natasha, taking her brother's arm, led him into the sitting room, where they began talking.
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.
"Only tell me where to go and where to shoot," he said with an unnaturally gentle smile.
He woke up and looked round for a while with a startled expression, unable to realize where he was.
Killed in battle, where the best of Russian men and Russia's glory were led to destruction.
"No it can't be, that would be too extraordinary," and at the very moment she thought this, the face and figure of Prince Andrew, in a fur cloak the deep collar of which covered with snow, appeared on the landing where the footman stood with the candle.
Three days later the little princess was buried, and Prince Andrew went up the steps to where the coffin stood, to give her the farewell kiss.
At that time in the Rostovs' house there prevailed an amorous atmosphere characteristic of homes where there are very young and very charming girls.
"Where would I not go at the countess' command!" said Denisov, who at the Rostovs' had jocularly assumed the role of Natasha's knight.
When it came to Natasha's turn to choose a partner, she rose and, tripping rapidly across in her little shoes trimmed with bows, ran timidly to the corner where Denisov sat.
"Everything's still the same with them," thought Nicholas, glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother with the old lady.
"Now, Sonya!" she said, going to the very middle of the room, where she considered the resonance was best.
I will tell him myself, and you'll listen at the door, and Natasha ran across the drawing room to the dancing hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord with his face in his hands.
Where are you traveling from?
Where are you going to now, my dear sir?
Having entered the courtyard of a large house where the Lodge had its headquarters, and having ascended a dark staircase, they entered a small well-lit anteroom where they took off their cloaks without the aid of a servant.
A bass voice (Pierre was still blindfolded) questioned him as to who he was, when and where he was born, and so on.
"My dear," said Princess Mary, addressing her brother from beside the cot where she was standing, "better wait a bit... later..."
Each made the other a warning gesture and stood still in the dim light beneath the curtain as if not wishing to leave that seclusion where they three were shut off from all the world.
What Pierre did not know was that the place where they presented him with bread and salt and wished to build a chantry in honor of Peter and Paul was a market village where a fair was held on St. Peter's day, and that the richest peasants (who formed the deputation) had begun the chantry long before, but that nine tenths of the peasants in that villages were in a state of the greatest poverty.
Some domestic serfs Pierre met, in reply to inquiries as to where the prince lived, pointed out a small newly built lodge close to the pond.
Where have you been?
She evidently felt frightened and ashamed to have accepted charity in a house where such things could be said, and was at the same time sorry to have now to forgo the charity of this house.
Old women's nonsense--old women's nonsense! he repeated, but still he patted Pierre affectionately on the shoulder, and then went up to the table where Prince Andrew, evidently not wishing to join in the conversation, was looking over the papers his father had brought from town.
"Where are they off to now?" thought Rostov.
In answer to Rostov's inquiry where he was going, he answered vaguely and crossly that he had some business.
He did not even trouble to find out where Denisov had gone.
It was a little different, more pungent, and one felt that this was where it originated.
Rostov looked at him, trying to remember where he had seen him before.
"See where we've met again!" said the little man.
"Yes, wait a bit," said Denisov, glancing round at the officers, and taking his papers from under his pillow he went to the window, where he had an inkpot, and sat down to write.
As if you could come at a wrong time! said Boris, and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his.
They went into the little room where Boris slept.
In his civilian clothes and a round hat, he wandered about the town, staring at the French and their uniforms and at the streets and houses where the Russian and French Emperors were staying.
He is here! thought Rostov, who had unconsciously returned to the house where Alexander lodged.
The Emperor rode to the square where, facing one another, a battalion of the Preobrazhensk regiment stood on the right and a battalion of the French Guards in their bearskin caps on the left.
Where are you off to?
Stop here! voices whispered to Lazarev who did not know where to go.
So vividly did he recall that hospital stench of dead flesh that he looked round to see where the smell came from.
They crossed the ferry where he had talked with Pierre the year before.
Look at those cramped dead firs, ever the same, and at me too, sticking out my broken and barked fingers just where they have grown, whether from my back or my sides: as they have grown so I stand, and I do not believe in your hopes and your lies.
It was already the beginning of June when on his return journey he drove into the birch forest where the gnarled old oak had made so strange and memorable an impression on him.
"But where is it?" he again wondered, gazing at the left side of the road, and without recognizing it he looked with admiration at the very oak he sought.
This was Speranski, Secretary of State, reporter to the Emperor and his companion at Erfurt, where he had more than once met and talked with Napoleon.
"Where is she?" asked Bolkonski.
"Where are you off to so early?" asked Speranski.
She told her how he had complimented her, how he told her he was going abroad, asked her where they were going to spend the summer, and then how he had asked her about Boris.
Where was his spleen, his contempt for life, his disillusionment?
To throw off this burden as quickly as possible, on the third day after his arrival he went, angry and scowling and without answering questions as to where he was going, to Mitenka's lodge and demanded an account of everything.
Mitenka's wife and sisters-in-law thrust their heads and frightened faces out of the door of a room where a bright samovar was boiling and where the steward's high bedstead stood with its patchwork quilt.
That's where I'm going.
Rostov, having finally settled with "Uncle" where they should set on the hounds, and having shown Natasha where she was to stand--a spot where nothing could possibly run out--went round above the ravine.
He knows where to stand.
The count and Simon galloped out of the wood and saw on their left a wolf which, softly swaying from side to side, was coming at a quiet lope farther to the left to the very place where they were standing.
At the same instant, with a cry like a wail, first one hound, then another, and then another, sprang helter-skelter from the wood opposite and the whole pack rushed across the field toward the very spot where the wolf had disappeared.
He made thousands of different conjectures as to where and from what side the beast would come and how he would set upon it.
Nicholas could already see not far in front of him the wood where the wolf would certainly escape should she reach it.
Nicholas and his attendant, with "Uncle" and his huntsman, were all riding round the wolf, crying "ulyulyu!" shouting and preparing to dismount each moment that the wolf crouched back, and starting forward again every time she shook herself and moved toward the wood where she would be safe.
Nicholas sent the man to call Natasha and Petya to him, and rode at a footpace to the place where the whips were getting the hounds together.
Several of the field galloped to the spot where the fight was going on.
Nicholas, not stopping to talk to the man, asked his sister and Petya to wait for him and rode to the spot where the enemy's, Ilagin's, hunting party was.
"Uncle" continued to play correctly, carefully, with energetic firmness, looking with a changed and inspired expression at the spot where Anisya Fedorovna had just stood.
Where, how, and when had this young countess, educated by an emigree French governess, imbibed from the Russian air she breathed that spirit and obtained that manner which the pas de chale * would, one would have supposed, long ago have effaced?
Where is he now? she thought, and her face suddenly became serious.
The count and countess did not know where they were and were very anxious, said one of the men.
Yes, first I thought that we are driving along and imagining that we are going home, but that heaven knows where we are really going in the darkness, and that we shall arrive and suddenly find that we are not in Otradnoe, but in Fairyland.
Oh, Nikita, please go... where can I send him?...
"What can I do, where can I go?" thought she, as she went slowly along the passage.
Oh, where am I to go?
"Where were you going?" she asked.
After tea, Nicholas, Sonya, and Natasha went to the sitting room, to their favorite corner where their most intimate talks always began.
Once in the regiment I had not gone to some merrymaking where there was music... and suddenly I felt so depressed...
It was dark in the room especially where they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows the silvery light of the full moon fell on the floor.
Standing as usual in the middle of the hall and choosing the place where the resonance was best, Natasha began to sing her mother's favorite song.
The mummers (some of the house serfs) dressed up as bears, Turks, innkeepers, and ladies--frightening and funny--bringing in with them the cold from outside and a feeling of gaiety, crowded, at first timidly, into the anteroom, then hiding behind one another they pushed into the ballroom where, shyly at first and then more and more merrily and heartily, they started singing, dancing, and playing Christmas games.
"Where are we?" thought he.
Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows what is happening to us--but it is very strange and pleasant whatever it is.
And if this is really Melyukovka, it is still stranger that we drove heaven knows where and have come to Melyukovka, thought Nicholas.
Hussars, ladies, witches, clowns, and bears, after clearing their throats and wiping the hoarfrost from their faces in the vestibule, came into the ballroom where candles were hurriedly lighted.
Natasha, the young Melyukovs' favorite, disappeared with them into the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male garments were called for and received from the footman by bare girlish arms from behind the door.
They told her where the barn was and how she should stand and listen, and they handed her a fur cloak.
When they went into the drawing room where coffee was served, the old men sat together.
"Yes," returned Pierre with a smile, "and this young man now manages matters so that where there is a wealthy heiress there he is too.
Then there is only one thing left--to go away, but where could I go?
"And where has he sprung from?" he asked, turning to Shinshin.
She did not realize who and where she was, nor what was going on before her.
Anatole consented and went to Moscow, where he put up at Pierre's house.
Anatole, with uniform unbuttoned, walked to and fro from the room where the witnesses were sitting, through the study to the room behind, where his French valet and others were packing the last of his things.
"Where you are, there is vice and evil!" said Pierre to his wife.
She sighed, looking toward the door of the room where Prince Andrew was, evidently intending to express her sympathy with his sorrow, but Pierre saw by her face that she was glad both at what had happened and at the way her brother had taken the news of Natasha's faithlessness.
"And where is your brother-in-law now, if I may ask?" he said.
"Where to now, your excellency?" asked the coachman.
Where can I go now?
On the twenty-ninth of May Napoleon left Dresden, where he had spent three weeks surrounded by a court that included princes, dukes, kings, and even an emperor.
He gave an angry thrust to his horse, which had grown restive under him, and plunged into the water, heading for the deepest part where the current was swift.
In the figure in which he had to choose two ladies, he whispered to Helene that he meant to choose Countess Potocka who, he thought, had gone out onto the veranda, and glided over the parquet to the door opening into the garden, where, seeing Balashev and the Emperor returning to the veranda, he stood still.
"Where is your dispatch?" he inquired.
The Comte de Turenne showed him into a big reception room where many generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates--several of whom Balashev had seen at the court of the Emperor of Russia--were waiting.
Without moving from where he stood he began speaking in a louder tone and more hurriedly than before.
The Emperor was in very good spirits after his ride through Vilna, where crowds of people had rapturously greeted and followed him.
"I beg your Majesty's pardon," returned Balashev, "besides Russia there is Spain, where there are also many churches and monasteries."
This reply of Balashev's, which hinted at the recent defeats of the French in Spain, was much appreciated when he related it at Alexander's court, but it was not much appreciated at Napoleon's dinner, where it passed unnoticed.
She looked a little above Prince Andrew's head with the confident, accustomed look with which one looks at the place where a familiar portrait hangs.
Of a fourth opinion the most conspicuous representative was the Tsarevich, who could not forget his disillusionment at Austerlitz, where he had ridden out at the head of the Guards, in his casque and cavalry uniform as to a review, expecting to crush the French gallantly; but unexpectedly finding himself in the front line had narrowly escaped amid the general confusion.
Awkwardly holding up his sword, he addressed Chernyshev and asked in German where the Emperor was.
One could see that he wished to pass through the rooms as quickly as possible, finish with the bows and greetings, and sit down to business in front of a map, where he would feel at home.
Prince Andrew did not catch what he said and would have passed on, but Chernyshev introduced him to Pfuel, remarking that Prince Andrew was just back from Turkey where the war had terminated so fortunately.
Chernyshev and Prince Andrew went out into the porch, where the Emperor, who looked fatigued, was dismounting.
Go in there where they are meeting, and wait for me.
Prince Andrew, taking advantage of the Emperor's permission, accompanied Paulucci, whom he had known in Turkey, into the drawing room where the council was assembled.
At the review next day the Emperor asked Prince Andrew where he would like to serve, and Prince Andrew lost his standing in court circles forever by not asking to remain attached to the sovereign's person, but for permission to serve in the army.
About two hundred yards away there's a tavern where ours have already gathered.
Rostov, where are you?
Rostov and Ilyin hastened to find a corner where they could change into dry clothes without offending Mary Hendrikhovna's modesty.
Where is the manifesto?
But Sonya, who had gone to look for the papers in the anteroom, had found them in Pierre's hat, where he had carefully tucked them under the lining.
Petya decided to go straight to where the Emperor was and to explain frankly to some gentleman-in-waiting (he imagined the Emperor to be always surrounded by gentlemen-in-waiting) that he, Count Rostov, in spite of his youth wished to serve his country; that youth could be no hindrance to loyalty, and that he was ready to...
Alpatych entered the innyard at a quicker pace than usual and went straight to the shed where his horses and trap were.
Having written this and given the paper to Alpatych, he told him how to arrange for departure of the prince, the princess, his son, and the boy's tutor, and how and where to let him know immediately.
Riding past the pond where there used always to be dozens of women chattering as they rinsed their linen or beat it with wooden beetles, Prince Andrew noticed that there was not a soul about and that the little washing wharf, torn from its place and half submerged, was floating on its side in the middle of the pond.
She had not slept and had stolen downstairs on tiptoe, and going to the door of the conservatory where he slept that night had listened at the door.
How can you chuck it in like that or shove it under the cord where it'll get rubbed?
When her carriage drove out of the house, he mounted and accompanied her eight miles from Bogucharovo to where the road was occupied by our troops.
In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard from the army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling with music and songs and coming from the field where the review was held.
He joined Obolenski's Cossacks and went to Belaya Tserkov where the regiment is being formed.
Where do you get your information from?
Please impress upon Leppich to be very careful where he descends for the first time, that he may not make a mistake and fall into the enemy's hands.
"Where are you going?" shouted Pierre to the man, who was driving to Lubyanka Street.
Every house in Mozhaysk had soldiers quartered in it, and at the hostel where Pierre was met by his groom and coachman there was no room to be had.
The Russians, they say, fortified this position in advance on the left of the highroad (from Moscow to Smolensk) and almost at a right angle to it, from Borodino to Utitsa, at the very place where the battle was fought.
That redoubt was quite senseless in front of the position where the battle was accepted.
Had Napoleon not ridden out on the evening of the twenty-fourth to the Kolocha, and had he not then ordered an immediate attack on the redoubt but had begun the attack next morning, no one would have doubted that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left flank of our position, and the battle would have taken place where we expected it.
At the descent of the high steep hill, down which a winding road led out of the town past the cathedral on the right, where a service was being held and the bells were ringing, Pierre got out of his vehicle and proceeded on foot.
But beneath the slope, by the cart with the wounded near the panting little nag where Pierre stood, it was damp, somber, and sad.
"Why should you be God knows where out of sight, during the battle?" he said, exchanging glances with his young companion.
Ah, I also wanted to ask you where our position is exactly? said Pierre.
Below the village the road crossed the river by a bridge and, winding down and up, rose higher and higher to the village of Valuevo visible about four miles away, where Napoleon was then stationed.
Pierre pointed to another knoll in the distance with a big tree on it, near a village that lay in a hollow where also some campfires were smoking and something black was visible.
That's where one crosses the Kolocha.
You see down there where the rows of hay are lying in the hollow, there's the bridge.
Our right flank is over there"--he pointed sharply to the right, far away in the broken ground--"That's where the Moskva River is, and we have thrown up three redoubts there, very strong ones.
Yesterday our left flank was there at Shevardino, you see, where the oak is, but now we have withdrawn our left wing--now it is over there, do you see that village and the smoke?
You will see everything best from where Count Bennigsen will be.
But where is Prince Bolkonski's regiment?
From Gorki, Bennigsen descended the highroad to the bridge which, when they had looked at it from the hill, the officer had pointed out as being the center of our position and where rows of fragrant new-mown hay lay by the riverside.
They rode across that bridge into the village of Borodino and thence turned to the left, passing an enormous number of troops and guns, and came to a high knoll where militiamen were digging.
They then crossed the hollow to Semenovsk, where the soldiers were dragging away the last logs from the huts and barns.
After going through the wood for about a mile and a half they came out on a glade where troops of Tuchkov's corps were stationed to defend the left flank.
Another valet, with his finger over the mouth of a bottle, was sprinkling Eau de Cologne on the Emperor's pampered body with an expression which seemed to say that he alone knew where and how much Eau de Cologne should be sprinkled.
Having inspected the country opposite the Shevardino Redoubt, Napoleon pondered a little in silence and then indicated the spots where two batteries should be set up by the morrow to act against the Russian entrenchments, and the places where, in line with them, the field artillery should be placed.
Napoleon with his suite rode up to the Shevardino Redoubt where he dismounted.
"To the crossing!" said the general coldly and sternly in reply to one of the staff who asked where he was going.
Another prodded his horse with the butt end of a musket, and Pierre, bending over his saddlebow and hardly able to control his shying horse, galloped ahead of the soldiers where there was a free space.
There was a bridge ahead of him, where other soldiers stood firing.
In contrast with the dread felt by the infantrymen placed in support, here in the battery where a small number of men busy at their work were separated from the rest by a trench, everyone experienced a common and as it were family feeling of animation.
The booming cannonade and the fusillade of musketry were growing more intense over the whole field, especially to the left where Bagration's fleches were, but where Pierre was the smoke of the firing made it almost impossible to distinguish anything.
Pierre ran after him, avoiding the spot where the young officer was sitting.
Pierre again went up onto the knoll where he had spent over an hour, and of that family circle which had received him as a member he did not find a single one.
Napoleon, standing on the knoll, looked through a field glass, and in its small circlet saw smoke and men, sometimes his own and sometimes Russians, but when he looked again with the naked eye, he could not tell where what he had seen was.
But not only was it impossible to make out what was happening from where he was standing down below, or from the knoll above on which some of his generals had taken their stand, but even from the fleches themselves--in which by this time there were now Russian and now French soldiers, alternately or together, dead, wounded, alive, frightened, or maddened-- even at those fleches themselves it was impossible to make out what was taking place.
The marshals and generals, who were nearer to the field of battle but, like Napoleon, did not take part in the actual fighting and only occasionally went within musket range, made their own arrangements without asking Napoleon and issued orders where and in what direction to fire and where cavalry should gallop and infantry should run.
The handsome boy adjutant with the long hair sighed deeply without removing his hand from his hat and galloped back to where men were being slaughtered.
On the rug-covered bench where Pierre had seen him in the morning sat Kutuzov, his gray head hanging, his heavy body relaxed.
Toward two o'clock the regiment, having already lost more than two hundred men, was moved forward into a trampled oatfield in the gap between Semenovsk and the Knoll Battery, where thousands of men perished that day and on which an intense, concentrated fire from several hundred enemy guns was directed between one and two o'clock.
The militiamen carried Prince Andrew to the dressing station by the wood, where wagons were stationed.
He rode hurriedly from the battlefield and returned to the Shevardino knoll, where he sat on his campstool, his sallow face swollen and heavy, his eyes dim, his nose red, and his voice hoarse, involuntarily listening, with downcast eyes, to the sounds of firing.
"My head, be it good or bad, must depend on itself," said he, rising from the bench, and he rode to Fili where his carriages were waiting.
One day he took the countess to a Roman Catholic church, where she knelt down before the altar to which she was led.
Where have you to go to?
And where are you going, please?
His Serene Highness has passed through Mozhaysk in order to join up with the troops moving toward him and has taken up a strong position where the enemy will not soon attack him.
Tomorrow after dinner I shall take the Iberian icon of the Mother of God to the wounded in the Catherine Hospital where we will have some water blessed.
From that time till the end of the destruction of Moscow no one of Bezukhov's household, despite all the search they made, saw Pierre again or knew where he was.
After Petya had joined Obolenski's regiment of Cossacks and left for Belaya Tserkov where that regiment was forming, the countess was seized with terror.
Though Petya would remain in the service, this transfer would give the countess the consolation of seeing at least one of her sons under her wing, and she hoped to arrange matters for her Petya so as not to let him go again, but always get him appointed to places where he could not possibly take part in a battle.
Natasha ran into the house and went on tiptoe through the half-open door into the sitting room, where there was a smell of vinegar and Hoffman's drops.
Not only were huge sums offered for the horses and carts, but on the previous evening and early in the morning of the first of September, orderlies and servants sent by wounded officers came to the Rostovs' and wounded men dragged themselves there from the Rostovs' and from neighboring houses where they were accommodated, entreating the servants to try to get them a lift out of Moscow.
From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into the drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of Natasha and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health.
The phaeton was full of people and there was a doubt as to where Count Peter could sit.
When he woke up on the morning after his return to Moscow and his interview with Count Rostopchin, he could not for some time make out where he was and what was expected of him.
From the landing where Pierre stood there was a second staircase leading to the back entrance.
He hired the first cab he met and told the driver to go to the Patriarch's Ponds, where the widow Bazdeev's house was.
By ten o'clock in the morning of the second of September, only the rear guard remained in the Dorogomilov suburb, where they had ample room.
While the troops, dividing into two parts when passing around the Kremlin, were thronging the Moskva and the Stone bridges, a great many soldiers, taking advantage of the stoppage and congestion, turned back from the bridges and slipped stealthily and silently past the church of Vasili the Beatified and under the Borovitski gate, back up the hill to the Red Square where some instinct told them they could easily take things not belonging to them.
Where are you off to?...
Where?... he shouted to three infantrymen without muskets who, holding up the skirts of their overcoats, were slipping past him into the Bazaar passage.
Where has she run off to?
Where are all the folks going?
"Where is he?" he inquired.
At the moment when Vereshchagin fell and the crowd closed in with savage yells and swayed about him, Rostopchin suddenly turned pale and, instead of going to the back entrance where his carriage awaited him, went with hurried steps and bent head, not knowing where and why, along the passage leading to the rooms on the ground floor.
Where are you going?...
To a man not swayed by passion that welfare is never certain, but he who commits such a crime always knows just where that welfare lies.
He was driving to the Yauza bridge where he had heard that Kutuzov was.
And strange to say, the Governor of Moscow, the proud Count Rostopchin, took up a Cossack whip and went to the bridge where he began with shouts to drive on the carts that blocked the way.
Murat approached the interpreter and told him to ask where the Russian army was.
All around the quarters occupied by the French were other regions still unexplored and unoccupied where, they thought, yet greater riches might be found.
How much then must the probability of fire be increased in an abandoned, wooden town where foreign troops are quartered.
The absorption of the French by Moscow, radiating starwise as it did, only reached the quarter where Pierre was staying by the evening of the second of September.
Natasha, pale, with a fixed look, was sitting on the bench under the icons just where she had sat down on arriving and paid no attention to her father's words.
With her bare feet she touched a sleeping man, stepped over him, and opened the door into the part of the hut where Prince Andrew lay.
The first time Prince Andrew understood where he was and what was the matter with him and remembered being wounded and how was when he asked to be carried into the hut after his caleche had stopped at Mytishchi.
Pierre rose, rubbed his eyes, and seeing the pistol with an engraved stock which Gerasim had replaced on the writing table, he remembered where he was and what lay before him that very day.
Pierre's way led through side streets to the Povarskoy and from there to the church of St. Nicholas on the Arbat, where he had long before decided that the deed should be done.
"Sister must have taken her, or else where can she be?" he added.
"But where was she left?" asked Pierre.
Pierre, accompanied by the maid, was advancing to the spot where the general stood, but the French soldiers stopped him.
He did not find the civil servant or his wife where he had left them.
"Where are they taking you to, you poor dear?" said she.
And having thus demolished the young man, Anna Pavlovna turned to another group where Bilibin was talking about the Austrians: having wrinkled up his face he was evidently preparing to smooth it out again and utter one of his mots.
When--free from soldiers, wagons, and the filthy traces of a camp--he saw villages with peasants and peasant women, gentlemen's country houses, fields where cattle were grazing, posthouses with stationmasters asleep in them, he rejoiced as though seeing all this for the first time.
The landowner to whom Nicholas went was a bachelor, an old cavalryman, a horse fancier, a sportsman, the possessor of some century-old brandy and some old Hungarian wine, who had a snuggery where he smoked, and who owned some splendid horses.
On the third day he was taken with the others to a house where a French general with a white mustache sat with two colonels and other Frenchmen with scarves on their arms.
Why was he in the yard of a burning house where witnesses had seen him?
Again they interrupted him: they had not asked where he was going, but why he was found near the fire?
On the eighth of September an officer--a very important one judging by the respect the guards showed him--entered the coach house where the prisoners were.
Pierre remembered Ramballe, and named him and his regiment and the street where the house was.
But where they were to take him Pierre did not know: back to the coach house or to the place of execution his companions had pointed out to him as they crossed the Virgin's Field.
They took him to the upper end of the field, where there were some sheds built of charred planks, beams, and battens, and led him into one of them.
"Where there's law there's injustice," put in the little man.
The countess took Princess Mary into the drawing room, where Sonya was talking to Mademoiselle Bourienne.
"Where is he?" she asked again, addressing them all.
Where has he gone?
Where is he now?...
If instead of imagining to ourselves commanders of genius leading the Russian army, we picture that army without any leaders, it could not have done anything but make a return movement toward Moscow, describing an arc in the direction where most provisions were to be found and where the country was richest.
The beast wounded at Borodino was lying where the fleeing hunter had left him; but whether he was still alive, whether he was strong and merely lying low, the hunter did not know.
Ermolov was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was.
But where is it?
Some columns, supposing they had reached their destination, halted, piled arms, and settled down on the cold ground, but the majority marched all night and arrived at places where they evidently should not have been.
He said that Murat was spending the night less than a mile from where they were, and that if they would let him have a convoy of a hundred men he would capture him alive.
Craftsmen and industrious artisans, return to your work, your houses, your shops, where the protection of guards awaits you!
And lastly you too, peasants, come from the forests where you are hiding in terror, return to your huts without fear, in full assurance that you will find protection!
Markets are established in the city where peasants can bring their surplus supplies and the products of the soil.
The rustle of the battle of Tarutino frightened the beast, and it rushed forward onto the hunter's gun, reached him, turned back, and finally--like any wild beast--ran back along the most disadvantageous and dangerous path, where the old scent was familiar.
Another, a thin little officer, was speaking to everyone, conjecturing where they were now being taken and how far they would get that day.
Pierre too drew near the church where the thing was that evoked these exclamations, and dimly made out something leaning against the palings surrounding the church.
To the right, where the Kaluga road turns near Neskuchny, endless rows of troops and carts stretched away into the distance.
They advanced the few hundred paces that separated the bridge from the Kaluga road, taking more than an hour to do so, and came out upon the square where the streets of the Transmoskva ward and the Kaluga road converge, and the prisoners jammed close together had to stand for some hours at that crossway.
Pierre turned back, not to his companions by the campfire, but to an unharnessed cart where there was nobody.
From all these reports it was evident that where they had expected to meet a single division there was now the whole French army marching from Moscow in an unexpected direction--along the Kaluga road.
You damned rascal, where do you always hide it? said the voice of the man who was stretching himself, to the orderly.
Like Dokhturov he had the reputation of being a man of very limited capacity and information, and like Dokhturov he never made plans of battle but was always found where the situation was most difficult.
But that native land was too far off, and for a man going a thousand miles it is absolutely necessary to set aside his final goal and to say to himself: "Today I shall get to a place twenty-five miles off where I shall rest and spend the night," and during the first day's journey that resting place eclipses his ultimate goal and attracts all his hopes and desires.
That morning, Cossacks of Denisov's party had seized and carried off into the forest two wagons loaded with cavalry saddles, which had stuck in the mud not far from Mikulino where the forest ran close to the road.
In their rear, more than a mile from Mikulino where the forest came right up to the road, six Cossacks were posted to report if any fresh columns of French should show themselves.
And turning to his men he directed a party to go on to the halting place arranged near the watchman's hut in the forest, and told the officer on the Kirghiz horse (who performed the duties of an adjutant) to go and find out where Dolokhov was and whether he would come that evening.
Denisov himself intended going with the esaul and Petya to the edge of the forest where it reached out to Shamshevo, to have a look at the part of the French bivouac they were to attack next day.
He ascended an incline, stopped, looked about him, and advanced to where the screen of trees was less dense.
From the spot where the peasant was standing they could see the French.
"Well, where did you disappear to?" inquired Denisov.
Where did I disappear to?
Tikhon scratched his back with one hand and his head with the other, then suddenly his whole face expanded into a beaming, foolish grin, disclosing a gap where he had lost a tooth (that was why he was called Shcherbaty--the gap-toothed).
He was highly delighted with what he saw and experienced in the army, but at the same time it always seemed to him that the really heroic exploits were being performed just where he did not happen to be.
And he was always in a hurry to get where he was not.
In the twilight saddled horses could be seen, and Cossacks and hussars who had rigged up rough shelters in the glade and were kindling glowing fires in a hollow of the forest where the French could not see the smoke.
Where have they put him?
"Yes, and where do you put the others?" inquired Dolokhov.
Noticing the black outline of a man crossing the road, Dolokhov stopped him and inquired where the commander and officers were.
When they had descended to the bridge Petya and Dolokhov rode past the sentinel, who without saying a word paced morosely up and down it, then they descended into the hollow where the Cossacks awaited them.
He was in a fairy kingdom where nothing resembled reality.
He was in a fairy kingdom where everything was possible.
"Wait?... Hurrah-ah-ah!" shouted Petya, and without pausing a moment galloped to the place whence came the sounds of firing and where the smoke was thickest.
From behind, where Karataev had been sitting, came the sound of a shot.
Behind him, where Karataev had been sitting, the dog began to howl.
In general they regard Smolensk as the place where they hope to recover.
Beyond Smolensk there were several different roads available for the French, and one would have thought that during their stay of four days they might have learned where the enemy was, might have arranged some more advantageous plan and undertaken something new.
And there is no greatness where simplicity, goodness, and truth are absent.
And that other side of life, of which she had never before thought and which had formerly seemed to her so far away and improbable, was now nearer and more akin and more comprehensible than this side of life, where everything was either emptiness and desolation or suffering and indignity.
She was gazing where she knew him to be; but she could not imagine him otherwise than as he had been here.
Again everything was shrouded in hard, dry perplexity, and again with a strained frown she peered toward the world where he was.
So it was at Krasnoe, where they expected to find one of the three French columns and stumbled instead on Napoleon himself with sixteen thousand men.
One of the generals was reporting to him where the guns and prisoners had been captured.
Where are you shoving to?
The handsome young soldier who had brought the wood, setting his arms akimbo, began stamping his cold feet rapidly and deftly on the spot where he stood.
That peasant near Mozhaysk where the battle was said the men were all called up from ten villages around and they carted for twenty days and still didn't finish carting the dead away.
Just then he was only anxious to get away as quickly as possible from places where people were killing one another, to some peaceful refuge where he could recover himself, rest, and think over all the strange new facts he had learned; but on reaching Orel he immediately fell ill.
He had equipped himself with a mental telescope and looked into remote space, where petty worldliness hiding itself in misty distance had seemed to him great and infinite merely because it was not clearly seen.
"Again!" she commanded, pointing with a peremptory gesture to the spot where Nicholas had placed the kiss.
At tea all sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess.
The curly- headed, delicate boy sat with shining eyes unnoticed in a corner, starting every now and then and muttering something to himself, and evidently experiencing a new and powerful emotion as he turned his curly head, with his thin neck exposed by his turn-down collar, toward the place where Pierre sat.
Each of them expresses his opinion as to how and where to haul it.
Do the Sanders know where everything is and what needs to be done with the animals?
"Dad," Jonathan said, "When we get the new baby, where will we put him when we ride in the car?"
We... actually, I... was thinking about adopting a few wild horses from out west where they have too many.
How could he do such a thing in front of Jonathan... and where was Jonathan?
Alex obliged and then the four of them continued to a lot where some horses grazed.
Where is baby howse?
Speaking of which, where was Alex?
If you don't remember where you buried the bone, it isn't going to be much help when you get hungry later.
Where is this house?
Where are you going?
She found Felipa and Destiny in the dining room where they were having an ice cream snack.
Right now she'd like to kiss those smooth lips - and she might if she didn't know where they'd been last.
Where it is written how we are to make a child?
On the other hand, Alex needed to be in a position where he was forced to actually talk to his father.
Where Princess was concerned, it was a normal uneventful birth.
Later they were taken to a room where they were introduced to their newest family members.
With every step up to the office where Señor Medena waited, he dreaded the conversation.
She could drive, if someone would simply tell her where they were.
At least tell Len where you're going, or Howard.
Back into the fuzzy recesses of her mind she crawled – back where it was safe.
His nod was noncommittal as he examined the place where the car had gone over.
Maybe Sarah or Giddon would take her to the little country store where the dirt road joined the highway.
"I really don't have anything to do but pack," the words spilled out excitedly, "and call Connie so she'll know where I am."
"Where do you work?" she asked, trying not to sound overly interested.
If you absolutely insist on doing this, at least leave me instructions on how to get there... and a phone number where you can be reached.
Where is Tammy's mother?
Where were you going?
"Like spun gold," he said softly tossing it across her shoulder, where it poised and then bounced down her back.
She would have bet her eyeteeth that Connie wouldn't tell Allen where she was.
How did you know where to find me?
This is where I work.
With this thought in mind the girl took heart and leaned her head over the side of the buggy to see where the strange light was coming from.
Dorothy had a green streak through the center of her face where the blue and yellow lights came together, and her appearance seemed to add to his fright.
"A nice country this is," he grumbled, "where a respectable horse has to eat pink grass!"
Do not all people grow upon bushes where you came from, on the outside of the earth?
"Where did you grow?" asked the Wizard.
He led them within another but smaller circle of hedge, where grew one large and beautiful bush.
The little man felt carefully in his pocket and pulled out the tiny piglets, setting them upon the grass one by one, where they ran around and nibbled the tender blades.
"They are from the Island of Teenty-Weent," said the Wizard, "where everything is small because it's a small island.
"Where shall we stay?" asked the girl.
Let us walk up, and see where the doors lead to.
Next the Wizard poured a pool of oil from the can upon the glass floor, where it covered quite a broad surface.
They knew the kitten, by this time, so they scampered over to where she lay beside Jim and commenced to frisk and play with her.
But never mind; be brave, my friends, and I will go and tell our masters where you are, and get them to come to your rescue.
Before long they neared the Black Pit, where a busy swarm of Mangaboos, headed by their Princess, was engaged in piling up glass rocks before the entrance.
With some difficulty and danger Jim drew the buggy over the loose rocks until he reached the green lawns below, where the paths and orchards and gardens began.
"But where are the people?" asked Dorothy.
"Where do you come from, then?" asked the woman, in a curious tone.
Directly facing the place where Jim had stopped was an arched opening leading to a broad stairway.
But this enabled them to proceed steadily until they came to a landing where there was a rift in the side of the mountain that let in both light and air.
"Where did you come from?" asked Dorothy, wonderingly.
"Yes, indeed; come into my shop, please," and the braided man turned and led the way into a smaller cave, where he evidently lived.
Another breathless climb brought our adventurers to a third landing where there was a rift in the mountain.
The patches of grass were splinters of wood, and where neither grass nor sawdust showed was a solid wooden flooring.
They advanced in a great swarm, having been joined by many more of their kind, and they flew straight over Jim's head to where the others were standing.
Some of the wooden beings fell flat upon the ground, where they quivered and trembled in every limb; but most of them managed to wheel and escape again to a distance.
The Gargoyles roughly pushed them into the opening, where there was a platform, and then flew away and left them.
The space underneath the roof, where they stood, permitted them to see on all sides of the tall building, and they looked with much curiosity at the city spread out beneath them.
Looking out, they could see into some of the houses near them, where there were open windows in abundance, and were able to mark the forms of the wooden Gargoyles moving about in their dwellings.
"Where does it lead to?" she asked.
Then a sudden turn brought them to a narrow gallery where the buggy could not pass.
Sometimes they had to climb over heaps of loose rock, where Jim could scarcely drag the buggy.
"Where are they?" enquired the girl.
"Where is Dorothy?" enquired Zeb, anxiously, as he left the buggy and stood beside his friend the little Wizard.
So Zeb unharnessed Jim, and several of the servants then led the horse around to the rear, where they selected a nice large apartment that he could have all to himself.
"Yes, I am," she answered, looking all around to see where the voice came from.
In the afternoon they all went to a great field outside the city gates where the games were to be held.
I was born in Kentucky, you know, where all the best and most aristocratic horses come from.
The first one that passes the place where the Princess sits shall be named the winner.
"Where is she?" asked Dorothy.
Dorothy carried her in her arms back to where the others sat in grieved and thoughtful silence.
Where did you find my missing pet, Nick Chopper?
I will confess that I intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so I crept into the room where it was kept while the Princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair.
"Where is she?" asked Zeb, rather bewildered by the suddenness of it.
I think this is the loveliest country in the world; but not being fairies Jim and I feel we ought to be where we belong--and that's at the ranch.
They looked, as they thought, in every place where the lambs might have taken shelter.
Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me.
"Where? where?" he asked.
He wondered where they had come from and where they were going.
Slowly, one little step at a time, it crept up across the rough place where it had slipped and fallen so often.
Where did you find him?
Now, you charcoal man, where is that child?
So, with his own hands he carried the golden tripod to the little house where Thales lived.
We are at the point, finally, where we are seeing uses of the Internet that have no offline corollary.
Our ability to process data, move information, and make things small will progress to a point where they will not be gating factors ever again.
Today, there are modern-day Da Vincis living in parts of the world where just surviving is a full-time occupation, powerless to develop the gifts they could offer the wider world.
Imagine a world where everyone on the planet has access to this expanded canvas of human expression that technology has created.
Where every Da Vinci can paint his Mona Lisa and every Dante can write his Inferno.
He turned onto Franz Josef Street, where he was not supposed to have been, and drove right in front of a surprised Princip.
By "the end of ignorance," I mean a world where everyone everywhere will be able to go through life making wise decisions based on near-perfect information.
Once Jim extends the invitation, he memorizes all the individuals' names, where they are from, what they do for a living, information about their families, and so forth.
Where do they go for Italian food?
This system will look at all the restaurants across the country (even around the world) where you have dined frequently.
It will look at all other people who like the same restaurants and see where they repeatedly go for Italian food in San Francisco.
"Where should I go to college?" is a much bigger choice that people face.
Where did they go to college?
Where are people who are studying what you want to study going?
It will look at where they went to college and what the outcome was.
So where does that leave us in our quest to end disease?
In areas where Jenner's techniques were available, infections fell, and when inoculation became mandatory, they plummeted.
Additionally, online stores powered by Yahoo and Google and Amazon exist where small vendors can set up storefronts and sell to the world, as a hobby or a livelihood.
No matter where you live, if you have access to an Internet connection, you can host an online store and sell to the entire world.
As we envision a world where machines do more and more work that people used to do, our minds naturally turn to those who would be displaced by technological advance.
Conversely, in places where prosperity has not risen, lack of these ingredients plays a significant role.
One morning I locked my mother up in the pantry, where she was obliged to remain three hours, as the servants were in a detached part of the house.
His special pride was the big garden where, it was said, he raised the finest watermelons and strawberries in the county; and to me he brought the first ripe grapes and the choicest berries.
She sat in my mother's lap constantly, where I used to sit, and seemed to take up all her care and time.
In the school where Laura Bridgman was taught I was in my own country.
Nobody knew where he had gone, or how he had escaped.
Round the house was a wide piazza, where the mountain winds blew, sweet with all wood-scents.
As this business was to be entered into without the usual capital, it may not be easy to conjecture where those means, that will still be indispensable to every such undertaking, were to be obtained.
If you would know the history of these homesteads, inquire at the bank where they are mortgaged.
It is a mistake to suppose that, in a country where the usual evidences of civilization exist, the condition of a very large body of the inhabitants may not be as degraded as that of savages.
And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to flag.
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies looked agitated.
She returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave.
Well, now we know where we are.
Tell me all you know about the will, and above all where it is.
According to the invitation, the party will be held in the main entrance near the Christmas tree.
So where did the money come from?
All Len wants out of me is information about Allen, and Howard couldn't care less where I am.
It was best to stay where she was, but she needed to let someone know she was here.
How did you know where I was working?
The little girl stood still to watch until the train had disappeared around a curve; then she turned to see where she was.
She could count his ribs easily where they showed through the skin of his body, and his head was long and seemed altogether too big for him, as if it did not fit.
"Look out!" cried Dorothy, who noticed that the beautiful man did not look where he was going; "be careful, or you'll fall off!"
Then he caught up another piglet and pushed it into the first, where it disappeared.
Half way up the steep was a yawning cave, black as night beyond the point where the rainbow rays of the colored suns reached into it.
The next moment a broad-leaved plant was jerked from the ground where it grew and held suspended in the air before the Wizard.
Where in the world have you been, my lad?
And yet we do have some experience with situations where scarcity is nonexistent.
The Keller homestead, where the family lived, was a few steps from our little rose-bower.
The sheds where the corn was stored, the stable where the horses were kept, and the yard where the cows were milked morning and evening were unfailing sources of interest to Martha and me.
I could not be induced to tell where the key was.
Entering the drawing room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery frames while a third read aloud.
Assuming quite the pose of a society woman (heaven knows when and where she had learned it) she talked with her partner, fanning herself and smiling over the fan.
He ordered the militiamen to be called up from the villages and armed, and wrote a letter to the commander-in- chief informing him that he had resolved to remain at Bald Hills to the last extremity and to defend it, leaving to the commander-in-chief's discretion to take measures or not for the defense of Bald Hills, where one of Russia's oldest generals would be captured or killed, and he announced to his household that he would remain at Bald Hills.
Where the children were concerned, she had no intention of remaining silent.
Yet, look where she would, Dorothy could discover no bells at all in the great glass hall.
The story of the brave men who had fought on the spot where we stood excited me greatly.
Where did he go?
"Where is your mother?" asked the Wizard, anxiously looking around.
"Where are they?" asked Dorothy, in astonishment.
Now we are certainly on the fuzzy edges, a place where words, often fuzzy in their meanings, begin to fail us.
I also remember the beach, where for the first time I played in the sand.
"Where is that Magic Belt?" enquired the Wizard, who had listened with great interest.