O-connor Sentence Examples

The ten-year-old girl had resided at Bird Song with David Dean, his wife Cynthia, and Dean's seventy-seven-year-old stepfather, Fred O'Connor, for the past six months.

The Deans were devastated and knew when Fred O'Connor returned and learned the news, he too would be crushed that his young pal was leaving.

The Deans were on their way to their quarters in the rear of Bird Song when Fred O'Connor returned, fresh from an evening with Mrs. Worthington.

She was shyly paraded forward and introduced by a beaming Fred O'Connor.

Fred O'Connor moseyed out and joined them.

Fred O'Connor was off to the post office, but before leaving, he ceremoniously presented Martha with thirty dollars and a smothering hug.

The second floor contained six quarters, five rooms for guests and the rear left corner occupied by Fred O'Connor.

Fred O'Connor, dressed to the nines in a dapper suit, pink shirt, bow tie and sporting a boutonniere, asked Dean if his iron was broken when he took one look at his stepson's new but wrinkled slacks.

Finally Fred O'Connor withdrew a crumpled dollar bill from his antiquated change purse and a fountain pen from his jacket pocket.

Fred O'Connor plodded down the stairs carrying a wrapped present and set it by her chair.

Fred O'Connor returned, a bag of treasures in his hand, just as the slide show broke up.

The sheriff's office was located only a few blocks east of Bird Song, behind the County Court House, where Fred O'Connor would report for jury duty the following Tuesday.

Fred O'Connor looked embarrassed and took his time answering.

It was the most Fred O'Connor had ever said about his past, but the conversation was over.

Fred O'Connor had arranged the affair and Dean had reluctantly agreed to subject himself to the scrutiny of the cream of the town's lady folk.

Fred O'Connor, with three silver-haired lady friends in tow, clustered around the backyard picnic table.

The Deans were up at the first pink of dawn, but they didn't beat Fred O'Connor, who had already perked coffee, cracked eggs, and burned toast for their morning breakfast.

They were driving on Main Street when they spotted Fred O'Connor sauntering down from the courthouse chatting with two ladies who looked enthralled by his company.

But even old Mr. O'Connor at least had a name.

Dean had to admit—never out loud—that Fred O'Connor was far ahead in this junk collecting game.

Before she could answer, Joseph Dawkins came up the steps with Fred O'Connor close at his heels.

Dean followed close behind, with Fred O'Connor trailing.

Dean had a feeling the woman was the tall blonde he'd seen leaving the courthouse behind Fred O'Connor.

He wanted to tell her about meeting with Jennifer Radisson, but as soon as he started to speak, Fred O'Connor rushed up, a look of panic on his face.

Instead of Fred O'Connor, it was Paul Dawkins coming down the stairs.

Fred O'Connor was in the living room, hosting three of the four Dawkins, with Ginger missing, when the Deans returned to their bed and breakfast.

It wouldn't do to taint Fred O'Connor's open mind about the Dawkinses before the trial.

There was more movement in the back of the room as Fred O'Connor entered, followed by a contingent of his followers.

Fred O'Connor popped back into the room waving money.

Fred O'Connor banged into the room with a look-ma-no-cavities smile on his face.

The Fred O'Connor Cyber Cafe was unplugged from electronic connection to the world at large, as the old gentleman was taking his sweet time moving his belongings downstairs.

Fred O'Connor was nearest and talked in subdued and nervous conversation, reaching for a paper and pencil to take down a number.

Fred O'Connor's usual behavior was often erratic.

It's the old guy—Fred O'Connor.

It was a shock for David Dean to see Fred O'Connor sitting on a wooden stool behind bars at the Ouray County jail.

When there was a lady around, Fred O'Connor was always in good hands.

Dean knew Fred O'Connor was scheduled for release and that necessitated a dreaded trip to the sheriff's office.

There was no sign of Fitzgerald, Lydia Larkin, the jailer, or Fred O'Connor.

Then Fitz goes and jails Fred O'Connor just for spite.

Fred O'Connor joined him in the hall.

Fred O'Connor rubbed his chin and tried not to look guilty.

Fred O'Connor was instructed to call Jake Weller and tell him where they were located, but Dean couldn't wait.

Fred O'Connor seemed a tad put out that he'd been absent from the final confrontation in the Lucky Pup Mine until Dean reminded him that without his Internet connection and library research, Martha's bones would still be without identity.

Fred O'Connor and David Dean kept close tabs on the New Jersey nuptials via telephone.

The two had gradually fallen in love, married, scraped together funds, and together with Fred O'Connor, purchased a hundred-year-old Colorado Victorian home.

The second floor contained six, five rooms for guests, the sixth occupied by Fred O'Connor.

After fifteen bachelor years with Fred O'Connor he had heard it all.

With the proceeds of a recent stock sale, Fred O'Connor had invested in a complete computer system and was off and running.

The town of Ouray, while only a century and a quarter old, was rich in history and Fred O'Connor, together with a cadre of widows with similar interests, spent many hours reading Ouray's old newspapers and written accounts.

Fred O'Connor strolled back to the room, his platter replenished, the garage sale section of the newspaper tucked beneath his arm.

Fred O'Connor bounced into the room before the woman could comment further.

The Deans followed Fred O'Connor's example.

Fred O'Connor changed the subject.

She started to rise but Fred O'Connor rose to his feet.

The Fred O'Connor charm extended beyond the blue haired set to children as well.

Besides, if any dramatic discoveries were made, with Fred O'Connor on the job, Dean would learn the results soon enough.

Fred O'Connor beat a hasty retreat out the back door, looking like the Pied Piper with Donnie and Martha tagging behind, the Annie Quincy notebook under his arm.

She was sorry that nice Mr. O'Connor was disturbed.

Once the details to that "caper," as Fred O'Connor called it, were settled, life and business at Bird Song had proceeded peacefully.

Fred O'Connor, back from his second stint at the library and historical museum, was now poring over the newspaper and circling the Saturday garage sales in the classified ads.

Fred O'Connor reluctantly held out the century-old notebook.

Claire Quincy had donned reading glasses and was scrutinizing the letters as Fred O'Connor followed his notes and explained the information on Annie Quincy he had gathered at the library.

Surprisingly, Fred O'Connor, arch fan of any hint of mystery, remained uninterested in the Donald Ryland-Edith Shipton-Jerome Shipton triangle.

Fred O'Connor joined the others, looking distressed.

There was a noise at the back door and Fred O'Connor entered.

He then added, "But when your sister was so snooty about the coins and other items and short changed Fred O'Connor, we decided to keep the notebook."

Cynthia asked I knew the picture Mr. O'Connor had wasn't Annie Quincy.

Then she added, And tell that nice Mr. O'Connor not to spend his $2.50 gold coins.

She added, almost in a whisper, That's why I suggested Claire give the smaller denominations to Mr. O'Connor.

Fred O'Connor sighed deeply.

I just wish she had been able to escape and draw a curtain on her past like Fred O'Connor and move into a secure and happy life.

Fred O'Connor finished reading the latest pages as Mrs. Lincoln crawled onto his lap.

Effie sat at the table, smiling first at Fred O'Connor, then at the others, before beginning to read the pages.

Even Fred O'Connor was taking the day off from his historical research to watch the festivities.

Fred O'Connor sat in the parlor, a Sue Grafton novel in his lap, snoring softly.

Dean asked, as much to himself as Fred O'Connor.

Maybe Fred O'Connor ought to make the list too.

Sometimes Dean wished Fred O'Connor wasn't so damned perceptive.

Fred O'Connor is busy making a list and checking it twice as we stand here.

Fred O'Connor strolled into the kitchen a few moments later, all smiles, carrying his ever-present notebook.

Then he added, "Good job, detective O'Connor."

I want assurances from you and that horrid old Mr. O'Connor that the integrity of my family name will not be stained with unproven lies!

He was holding court with Fred O'Connor in the parlor, a plate of potato chips and a tuna salad sandwich on his ample lap.

Fred O'Connor gave a brief—unusual for him—explanation of Annie, careful not to identify her as a Quincy and the sisters' ancestor.

Fred O'Connor sat alone in the parlor, notes spread around him on the couch and coffee table.

But the Deans, and especially Fred O'Connor made her feel as if she truly belonged.

Fred O'Connor strolled up just as Dean finished.

Fred O'Connor's eyes lit up and his wheels began to spin.

While Sackler and DeLeo owned homes in the same subdivision, Dean rented a small house in the older part of town with Fred O'Connor, his elderly stepfather.

Two days after landing in the United States, Dean received a phone call from Fred O'Connor, the stepfather he'd yet to meet, informing him his mother was gravely ill.

During this trying time, the funeral and the days that fol­lowed, Dean stayed with Fred O'Connor in the Collingswood Avenue house Fred and Dean's mother had rented after their mar­riage.

Fred O'Connor, at 74, had long since finished his working career, a calico collection of jobs which changed with the telling, none of which gave him a pension.

Fred O'Connor had a sharp mind and a sharp tongue to match it.

Fred O'Connor's description of the Thursday encoun­ters were right on the button.

He assumed Cynthia Byrne was a few minutes late, but when he descended the stairs, there she sat, opposite Fred O'Connor, who was decked out in an elegant blue pinstripe suit complete with pocket handkerchief and bow tie.

Mr. O'Connor has been the perfect host.

That's very generous of Mr. O'Connor.

Though the weight of sadness from the past few days was still in evidence, she was obviously brightened by Fred O'Connor, the per­fect host.

Mr. O'Connor is a doll.

Mid-morning, Fred O'Connor came by, ostensibly out for a stroll, casually asking for the list of newspaper subscribers.

He jerked awake to see Fred O'Connor standing at the foot of his bed, in his Sunday go-a-courting clothes, a smirk upon his face.

One thing was cer­tain, Fred O'Connor would jump on this new angle like Ellery Queen!

There was no way he would admit it, but his personal scenario matched Fred O'Connor's to a tee, even though his practical side was embar­rassed to even consider the possibility.

Fred O'Connor immediately took charge and played the woman like an old harmonica.

Dean managed to hand her his business card but she seemed to dismiss it, with eyes only for the charming Fred O'Connor.

Fred O'Connor looked peeved that Dean delayed the interro­gation by taking time to discuss biking.

She in turn called her sister in Toledo, then Fred O'Connor because the occupants seemed to be watching his house.

The answer had frightening implications with Fred O'Connor at home alone.

Fred O'Connor was seated on the toilet, a towel over his head with his pants and shorts pulled down to his ankles.

In the first two hours at his desk, 20 people came up to Dean inquiring about poor Fred O'Connor.

Dean reluctantly explained Fred O'Connor's idea about the newspaper subscription and the fact that a paper had been sent to Scranton to a somewhat mysterious occupant.

I'm the other man who was with Mr. O'Connor.

Dean thanked her and was about to hang up but she insisted he tell that nice Mr. O'Connor she had called and would hold him to his promise to stop by and see her.

With no firm plan of action emerging with the morning sun, Dean scooted out of the house early, not yet ready to discuss matters with Fred O'Connor.

He was sure Fred O'Connor would take care of that chore if he hadn't already.

It was his first home-cooked meal in memory, if you could discount the occasional donated casseroles from Fred O'Connor's lady friends.

Dean returned home dreading what new tales of woe Fred O'Connor might have discovered in his absence.

In dropped Fred O'Connor looking like a New York commuter during a subway strike.

While Arthur might have been feeding the organization tidbits on Dean and Fred O'Connor's progress, how much could Arthur really know?

But no, Fred O'Connor was a lot of things, but loose-tongued wasn't one of his failings.

Fred O'Connor was out, no doubt placating his sweethearts after his four-day hia­tus to Scranton.

Grabbing his wobbly, stumbling partner, the man made a dash for the curb, nearly knocking down Fred O'Connor, who was only steps from the bar.

So, back in the car Dean climbed, with an insistent Fred O'Connor beside him, ready to kick him awake if he nodded off.

Dean introduced Fred O'Connor, who was taking it all in, and the three chatted in a quieter area at the far end of the hall, away from the worst of the mayhem.

Dean met up with Fred O'Connor during the lunch break.

Time sped by and he was surprised how quickly he pulled into the first rest stop and spotted Fred O'Connor working on a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin.

The zipper opened in one motion to reveal the lighted face of Fred O'Connor.

Fred O'Connor, in the company of Emma Blanding, was pass­ing out coffee and hot chocolate to the grateful line of chilled cyclists.

Were they the same guys who broke in and tied up Fred O'Connor?

Fred O'Connor hasn't had this much fun in 20 years!

As he rounded a corner, he spotted Fred O'Connor walking toward him.

The French directory, which possessed information from Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Arthur O'Connor confirming Tone, prepared to despatch an expedition under Hoche.

His labours were as various as they were incessant - now guiding the councils of the league, now addressing crowded and enthusiastic meetings of his supporters in London or the large towns of England and Scotland, now invading the agricultural districts and challenging the landlords to meet him in the presence of their own farmers, to discuss the question in dispute, and now encountering the Chartists, led by Feargus O'Connor.

In the same month Fitzgerald and his friend Arthur O'Connor proceeded to Hamburg, where they opened negotiations with the Directory through Reinhard, French minister to the Hanseatic towns.

Reinhard, who considered Arthur O'Connor "a far abler man," accurately read the character of Lord Edward Fitzgerald as that of a young man "incapable of falsehood or perfidy, frank, energetic, and likely to be a useful and devoted instrument; but with no experience or extraordinary talent, and entirely unfit to be chief of a great party or leader in a difficult enterprise."

Scott O'Connor, The Silken East (London, 1904); Talbot Kelly, Burma (London, 1905); an exhaustive account of the administration is contained in Dr Alleyne Ireland's The Province of Burma, Report prepared on behalf of the university of Chicago (Boston, U.S.A., 2 vols., 1907).

The present castle dates from 1142, being built by O'Connor, lord of Thomond, and is well restored.

Among charitable institutions are a Home of Benevolence (1878) for orphans and abandoned children, the Notre Dame Institute (for orphans) under the Sisters of Notre Dame, and the O'Connor Sanatorium.

In 1869 an Irish lad, O'Connor, was sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment and a whipping for presenting a pistol at the queen, with a petition, in St James's Park; but this time it was the queen herself who privately remitted the corporal punishment, and she even pushed clemency to the length of sending her aggressor to Australia at her own expense.

Under the year 1246 it is recorded that Turlough O'Connor made his escape from the crannog of Lough Leisi, and drowned his keepers.

Yet even here the laws were read aloud, and it is not without significance that the last national assembly held at Tailltenn under King Rhoderic O'Connor in 1168 was a political one.

The old historians agree that Ireland was ruled by a succession of Milesian monarchs until the reign of Roderick O'Connor, the last native king.

After the death of Domnall O'Lochlainn there was an interregnum of about fifteen years with no ardri, until Tordelbach (Turlough) O'Connor, king of Connaught, resolved to reduce the other provinces.

O'Connor's most stubborn opponent was Muirchertach O'Lochlainn, with whom he wrestled for supremacy until the day of his death (1156).

Ruadri O'Connor, now without a serious rival, was inaugurated with great pomp at Dublin.

In 1152 Tigernan O'Rourke, prince of Breifne, had been dispossessed of his territory by Tordelbach O'Connor, aided by Diarmait, and the latter is accused also of carrying off Derbforgaill, wife of O'Rourke.

Henry at first tried to be suzerain without displacing the natives, and received the homage of Roderick O'Connor, the high king.

In 1210 John, now king, visited Ireland again, and being joined by Cathal Crovderg O'Connor, king of Connaught, marched from Waterford by Dublin to Carrickfergus without encountering any serious resistance from Hugh de Lacy (second son of the Hugh de Lacy mentioned above), who had been made earl of Ulster in 1205.

Down and Louth paid black rent to O'Neill, Meath and Kildare to O'Connor, Wexford to the Kavanaghs, Kilkenny and Tipperary to O'Carroll, Limerick to the O'Briens, and Cork to the MacCarthies.

Fred O'Connor was off in Mrs. Armstrong's exhaust-belching Buick, a prior commitment to a garage sale, although his heart wasn't in it.

It was beginning to sound like old times around Bird Song—Fred O'Connor hot on the trail of a bonanza of junk.

Dean had to admit—never out loud—that Fred O'Connor was far ahead in this junk collecting game.

It's the old guy—Fred O'Connor.

Lydia Larkin was seated at a desk in the drab outer room, looking as pensive as Fred O'Connor back in his cell.

The only modicum of solace she felt came from Fred O'Connor's jailhouse assurances that Martha was not in harm's way.

Fred O'Connor, Dean's elderly stepfather, was an avid fan of a mystery, primarily in written form, often in his imagination and occasionally in his real life world.

Fred O'Connor sauntered into the room, resplendent in bow tie and jacket, carrying a plate of cinnamon toast.

Fred O'Connor's gifted powers of telephone telepathy remained intact.

Sister Claire bitched at the weatherman and anyone else she could blame for 'this horrible stuff ' while shooting daggers at Jerome Shipton and pretending Fred O'Connor hadn't been born.

With a disgruntled look on his face he hurriedly dressed and shuffled out to the kitchen where Fred O'Connor was munching on a doughnut and holding a glass of Ovaltine.

The four ate with gusto and animated conversation, led by Fred O'Connor, who won the contest of sucking up the longest spaghetti strand without dribbling oil on his chin.

In spite of his admonition the door opened, not to Fred O'Connor, but to Claire Quincy who closed the door behind her and stood with nervous defiance at the foot of his bed.

Fred O'Connor gave a brief—unusual for him—explanation of Annie, careful not to identify her as a Quincy and the sisters' ancestor.

Two more Saturdays of garage sales passed by, far less bountiful than the summer versions of the same, but nevertheless stocked with enough alleged treasures to keep Fred O'Connor at his computer key board for hours on end.

Ghostly, veiled ladies of exceptional height passed in somber silence past an empty bier while a shadowy figure looking like a cross between Hercule Poirot and Fred O'Connor lurked behind a pillar, watch­ing.

It was inspirational to see Fred O'Connor at work with a lady.

Fred O'Connor stood in the center of the room, the phone in his hand, with Dolly Parton crooning from the stereo.

The detective had wondered about Fred O'Connor's apparent acceptance of Dean's pronouncement he was going to Colorado alone.

She still kept in contact with O'Connor and was probably having an affair with him, with the apparent acquiescence of Frederick.

Fifty-nine men, including Feargus O'Connor and the National Executive of the National Charter Association were charged with seditious conspiracy.

He will be up against such heavyweights as Michael Parkinson and Des O'Connor.

A drop goal from O'Connor put the icing on the cake for Ulster in the dying minutes.

Patrick O'Connor, QC for the family, said, " This report is a devastating indictment of the whole prison service.

On one level, Joseph O'Connor's novel is a clever Victorian pastiche.

The strategy developed to recycle polystyrene into PHA might also work for other plastics or even batches of mixed plastics, O'Connor says.

Then in 1935 a new pseudonym was to take Cavan O'Connor to new heights of fame.

I recollect very well reading the first number of T. P. O'Connor 's Star (that was in 1888).

Undaunted by this failure, O'Connor continued to be the dominant figure in the Chartist movement.

Kevin O'Connor, host of This Old House, Tedd Benson, founder of woodworking company Bensonwood, and Steve Kieran, founding partner of architectural firm Kieran Timberlake Associates, LLP, gave the keynote address.

Mary Flannery O'Connor was born in this home, which is currently a museum.

If you have Bob Dylan hair, or a Sinead O'Connor bald 'do, don't put up last year's picture of your screaming orange dye job.

Jane, and no one can deny just how stylish Sinead O'Connor's bald head has always made her look.

Sinead O'Connor turned heads and stirred quite a controversy when she shaved her head.

The Fancy Nancy doll is based on a character in a book series written by Jane O'Connor.

A group of 90 literary agents, film industry managers and movie producers read the scripts submitted.Past winners have included Patrick Andrew O'Connor's The Break-Up Artist and Rodney Johnson's Queen Sized.

Things were going extremely well for the band, and they even replaced Sinead O'Connor on the 1995 Lollapalooza tour, when Annie Holland announced she was leaving Elastica.

Never mind that Sinead O'Connor now plays reggae music - that just keeps things more interesting.

If Ms. O'Connor has put you in a reggae state of mind, visit Free Reggae Music Downloads to get your Irish/Caribbean fusion party started.