On the other side of the thick entry door was a sitting room with lush wine colored carpet.
She handed him the wine bottle.
He sipped his wine, eyes on her.
We adults passed banalities back and forth while Howie opened wine, of an obvious expensive vintage us Gustefsons only admired.
She cleared her throat, staring into the wine glass.
A couple of wing-backed chairs and sofa sank luxuriously into that thick wine carpet, but what caught her full attention was the wide curving staircase.
After introductions we gathered around the oak table to get acquainted as more beer and wine flowed.
He played along with her banter but it was interesting to see he was savoring everything she said like the good wine we were sharing.
At the allotted hour, Betsy and I were finishing a bottle of wine when the phone rang.
Everyone was tired so after perfunctory greetings over a single glass of wine for those of us drinking, we retreated to our sleeping quarters.
We agreed the tests were finished for the day but mellowed by wine; we spent two more evening hours summarizing our findings.
I changed the subject and opened one of the bottles of wine we'd brought from New York.
Quinn returned with a tray, glasses, beer and a bottle of wine, looking somewhat apologetic.
Our nervous quintet settled in, ordered wine for the drinkers and waited for one of us to start the conversation.
Celebratory cigars and wine came out and all other business suffered from total indifference.
Back roads, wine country, the Erie Canal.
Howie immediately began asking who needed more wine though our glasses were full.
He brought wine and we had an okay time.
There were a half dozen messages from both Julie and Howie from California but in view of our frenzied day, decided to let them simmer until after a much relished glass or two of wine and Molly's carefully grilled hot dogs and cheese bread.
I poured us a second glass of wine as Betsy leaned back and closed her eyes, finally relaxing.
Betsy loved reveled in it and it fulfilled my needs; the wine did the trick and, I was hungry and the food tasted good.
He was down in the wine cellar.
She took in his wounds again, unable to fathom why her father would chain him to the wall in their wine cellar.
She returned with it to the wine cellar and pushed the door open.
As she crept up the stairs of the wine cellar to the kitchen, she couldn't help feeling troubled at leaving the man in the basement.
His gaze went to the wine cellar door, which she'd left cracked.
Bottle of wine in one hand, Deidre retreated to her bedroom to pack.
Wynn lounged in his seat at the garden table, an empty wine glass before him.
A full wine glass sat in front of the seat.
After the first glass of wine, she was convinced.
A bottle of wine later, Deidre found herself sobbing on the couch.
Her wine headache stuck with her throughout the morning on the fourth day.
She turned to the wine chiller and pulled out the bottle she opened when she returned home from the street fair.
Gabriel had dumped her wine before starting to replace the lights.
"That's expensive wine, my friend," Andre said suddenly.
Deidre twisted to see Gabriel at the wine chiller.
"Perhaps, if you promise him not to drink it except with me, he'll spare the rest of those precious bottles," Andre said, gaze on the wine going down the drain.
"Judging by the stack of wine bottles near the door, there needs to be a middle ground you can agree on," Andre advised.
Deidre looked at him hard for a moment then shook her head and gripped her wine, padding into the living area.
He swirled his wine as he leaned against the counter opposite her.
He set down his wine and settled his hands on her shoulders.
He crossed to the wet bar for two glasses, one with red wine and the other with whiskey.
He has filled the old skins of dogma with the new wine of love, and shown men what it is to believe, live and be free.
I believe that water is the only drink for a wise man; wine is not so noble a liquor; and think of dashing the hopes of a morning with a cup of warm coffee, or of an evening with a dish of tea!
Cato says, the master of a family (patremfamilias) must have in his rustic villa "cellam oleariam, vinariam, dolia multa, uti lubeat caritatem expectare, et rei, et virtuti, et gloriae erit," that is, "an oil and wine cellar, many casks, so that it may be pleasant to expect hard times; it will be for his advantage, and virtue, and glory."
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.
They talked to me of the age of the wine and the fame of the vintage; but I thought of an older, a newer, and purer wine, of a more glorious vintage, which they had not got, and could not buy.
But much as all the rest laughed, talked, and joked, much as they enjoyed their Rhine wine, saute, and ices, and however they avoided looking at the young couple, and heedless and unobservant as they seemed of them, one could feel by the occasional glances they gave that the story about Sergey Kuzmich, the laughter, and the food were all a pretense, and that the whole attention of that company was directed to-- Pierre and Helene.
The old princess sighed sadly as she offered some wine to the old lady next to her and glanced angrily at her daughter, and her sigh seemed to say: "Yes, there's nothing left for you and me but to sip sweet wine, my dear, now that the time has come for these young ones to be thus boldly, provocatively happy."
On receiving Boris' letter he rode with a fellow officer to Olmutz, dined there, drank a bottle of wine, and then set off alone to the Guards' camp to find his old playmate.
Berg returned, and over the bottle of wine conversation between the three officers became animated.
Meeting a comrade at the last post station but one before Moscow, Denisov had drunk three bottles of wine with him and, despite the jolting ruts across the snow-covered road, did not once wake up on the way to Moscow, but lay at the bottom of the sleigh beside Rostov, who grew more and more impatient the nearer they got to Moscow.
Rostov, leaning his head on both hands, sat at the table which was scrawled over with figures, wet with spilled wine, and littered with cards.
He finished a couple of bottles of wine by himself.
Having sat some time at table, Speranski corked a bottle of wine and, remarking, "Nowadays good wine rides in a carriage and pair," passed it to the servant and got up.
He was somewhat flushed with the wine and the drive.
On the tray was a bottle of herb wine, different kinds of vodka, pickled mushrooms, rye cakes made with buttermilk, honey in the comb, still mead and sparkling mead, apples, nuts (raw and roasted), and nut-and-honey sweets.
Though the doctors warned him that with his corpulence wine was dangerous for him, he drank a great deal.
He was only quite at ease when having poured several glasses of wine mechanically into his large mouth he felt a pleasant warmth in his body, an amiability toward all his fellows, and a readiness to respond superficially to every idea without probing it deeply.
But under the influence of wine he said to himself: It doesn't matter.
The whole army--French, Italian, German, Polish, and Dutch--hungry, ragged, and weary of the campaign, felt at the sight of an army blocking their road to Moscow that the wine was drawn and must be drunk.
The wine is drawn and must be drunk.
The sergeant ran up to the officer and in a frightened whisper informed him (as a butler at dinner informs his master that there is no more of some wine asked for) that there were no more charges.
The unaccustomed coarse food, the vodka he drank during those days, the absence of wine and cigars, his dirty unchanged linen, two almost sleepless nights passed on a short sofa without bedding--all this kept him in a state of excitement bordering on insanity.
"Yes, and some wine," answered the captain.
But as the captain had the wine they had taken while passing through Moscow, he left the kvass to Morel and applied himself to the bottle of Bordeaux.
He wrapped the bottle up to its neck in a table napkin and poured out wine for himself and for Pierre.
The satisfaction of his hunger and the wine rendered the captain still more lively and he chatted incessantly all through dinner.
The few glasses of wine he had drunk and the conversation with this good-natured man had destroyed the mood of concentrated gloom in which he had spent the last few days and which was essential for the execution of his design.
Whether it was the wine he had drunk, or an impulse of frankness, or the thought that this man did not, and never would, know any of those who played a part in his story, or whether it was all these things together, something loosened Pierre's tongue.
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.
As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusing around him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered the words "better late than never" and heard them repeated several times by others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and he felt at once that he had entered into his proper position in the province--that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position, and intoxicatingly so after his long privations.
In the refreshment room and the hall, footmen were bustling about with wine and viands.
Good bye good times and good wine; bring on the boxed stuff and bills.
Betsy opted for wine which Quinn opened a Merlot ceremoniously, toasting our engagement.
Quinn's fascination increased with his wine consumption.
He poured another wine before moving to the garage.
She opened the wine cellar and shivered at the cool breeze but forced herself to descend.
No one was in the wine cellar, and she sighed with relief.
Signs of the party the night before still remained, from the garbage bags awaiting pickup to one table with two wine glasses still present.
Jake led him into a dark wine cellar, and they paused to reload.
Light from the hidden hall filled the wine cellar.
Not some guy who sells you a six dollar wine in a half-full glass.
His eyes glowed turquoise, and he held a glass of wine in one hand.
What appeared to be red wine was squeezed out of the bath mat at the weight of her step.
She looked at the wine, realizing she hadn't touched it.
Next to Kris's whiskey Andre kept at the wet bar was Tamer's favorite vodka, Kiki's rice wine, and Erik's diet soda.
"A couple of bottles of cheap wine, and half a jug of Tequila some guest left," Dean answered as he fingered the knife.
He carried a white napkin upon his arm, and held the cup of wine very daintily with three of his fingers.
When the communion service began, she smelt the wine, and sniffed so loud that every one in the church could hear.
When the wine was passed to our neighbour, he was obliged to stand up to prevent her taking it away from him.
To be intoxicated by a single glass of wine; I have experienced this pleasure when I have drunk the liquor of the esoteric doctrines.
"Hungarian"... or "Rhine wine" as the case might be.
More wine was poured.
They've got a bottle of wine and a blanket.
It is the rule and custom of the cupbearer to pour out a little of the wine and taste it before handing the cup to me.
For the other day, when you sat at dinner with your officers, I noticed that the wine made you act queerly.
Women who are comme il faut, that's a different matter; but the Kuragins' set of women, 'women and wine' I don't understand!