"How long will you be with us?" he asked.
Though I don't agree with the gentleman...
It was called "Ivy Green" because the house and the surrounding trees and fences were covered with beautiful English ivy.
They used to hang in long festoons from our porch, filling the whole air with their fragrance, untainted by any earthy smell; and in the early morning, washed in the dew, they felt so soft, so pure, I could not help wondering if they did not resemble the asphodels of God's garden.
Obviously he was still struggling with it.
Communicating feelings with Alex wasn't always easy.
The radio had shifted into Christmas mode with one song after another.
Alex swung around, his eyes twinkling with humor and that cute dimple teasing his cheek.
Alex asked with a grin.
We'll have to be careful about that with the new baby.
The crowd drew up to the large table, at which sat gray-haired or bald seventy-year-old magnates, uniformed and besashed almost all of whom Pierre had seen in their own homes with their buffoons, or playing boston at the clubs.
Alex was doing everything in his power to provide her with all the experiences of a natural mother.
Alex had destroyed it then with suspicion and accusations.
Maybe lifting had nothing to do with it.
"Later," he said with a grin that summoned the dimple below one eye.
He stood and tossed the last bite into his mouth, washing it down with the last of his milk.
With so many people at their house, it was fortunate that the weather was warm and dry so they could utilize the courtyard for the children.
Jonathan was playing cars with Destiny in the family room floor while Carmen straightened up the clutter left by so many people.
Such a pleasant day and evening should have ended with a restful night and happy dreams, but it didn't.
They put her through college and it was her intent to stay with them as long as they needed her.
In business transactions Alex was frugal with his money, but when it came to his family, he was generous.
With his return to work, things at the house shifted to a faster pace.
As busy as she was, time had to be set aside for play with Destiny.
"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh.
Destiny stared at her, gray eyes large with wonder.
It will be so much fun to work on it with Jonathan and Destiny.
Do the Sanders know where everything is and what needs to be done with the animals?
I told them about a week ago, and I went over it again with them today.
"After seven, sleepy head," she said with a smile.
With everything going on, Carmen didn't have time to worry about flying, but when they were all sitting at the airport, she finally had time to stew over it.
Carmen sat with her hands clutched together tightly as the plane taxied out to the runway.
Count Ilya Rostov, in a military uniform of Catherine's time, was sauntering with a pleasant smile among the crowd, with all of whom he was acquainted.
He too approached that group and listened with a kindly smile and nods of approval, as he always did, to what the speaker was saying.
The retired naval man was speaking very boldly, as was evident from the expression on the faces of the listeners and from the fact that some people Pierre knew as the meekest and quietest of men walked away disapprovingly or expressed disagreement with him.
The nobility don't gwudge theah lives--evewy one of us will go and bwing in more wecwuits, and the sov'weign" (that was the way he referred to the Emperor) "need only say the word and we'll all die fo' him!" added the orator with animation.
Count Rostov's mouth watered with pleasure and he nudged Pierre, but Pierre wanted to speak himself.
(He was well acquainted with the senator, but thought it necessary on this occasion to address him formally.)
With a sudden expression of malevolence on his aged face, Adraksin shouted at Pierre:
Many voices shouted and talked at the same time, so that Count Rostov had not time to signify his approval of them all, and the group increased, dispersed, re-formed, and then moved with a hum of talk into the largest hall and to the big table.
Many spoke eloquently and with originality.
With an incessant hum of voices the crowd advanced to the table.
At that moment Count Rostopchin with his protruding chin and alert eyes, wearing the uniform of a general with sash over his shoulder, entered the room, stepping briskly to the front of the crowd of gentry.