Wife Sentence Examples

My wife looked up from her lap top.

His mother and his wife are still there.

Carmen is a good wife.

The charcoal man and his wife listened to this little dispute, and said nothing.

It would be different with his wife.

No wonder he wasn't interested in a wife.

Quinn, sensing his wife's discomfort, changed the subject back to the game.

My wife was biting her lip and tears began seeping down her cheeks.

However, my wife was far and away the most intelligent of the five of us and understood our success depended on strong leadership.

But the wife claims he wasn't much of a drinker.

If it was someone he knew, then that opens up another list—his wife, a business enemy, an old grudge, or he could have been scooped.

I sensed he'd been chastised to silence by his wife.

She began to cry; something my wife almost never does.

I followed in my wife's footsteps.

He could tell by the look on his wife's face that she shared his concern.

He was interested but perplexed about the March date when Byrne was excused from work—with­out his wife's knowledge.

She added, "Leland Anderson's wife Marian says you're a schmuck for not solving the Byrne thing and causing her to lose her bet."

However painful it may be to me, should the Almighty lay the duties of wife and mother upon me I shall try to perform them as faithfully as I can, without disquieting myself by examining my feelings toward him whom He may give me for husband.

Prince Andrew got out of the carriage, helped his little wife to alight, and let her pass into the house before him.

The house for your wife is ready.

What a treasure of a wife you have, said she, sitting down on the sofa, facing her brother.

I do not think I have complained of my wife to you, Masha, or blamed her.

When he reached his sister's room his wife was already awake and her merry voice, hurrying one word after another, came through the open door.

This very sentence about Countess Zubova and this same laugh Prince Andrew had already heard from his wife in the presence of others some five times.

He saw that his championship of the doctor's wife in her queer trap might expose him to what he dreaded more than anything in the world--to ridicule; but his instinct urged him on.

On either side of her sat the more important guests--an old general and his wife, and Anna Pavlovna Scherer.

The old general grumbled at his wife when she asked how his leg was.

When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, his wife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre.

Is his wife with him? he asked.

A week later Pierre gave his wife full power to control all his estates in Great Russia, which formed the larger part of his property, and left for Petersburg alone.

Prince Andrew went again to his wife and sat waiting in the room next to hers.

The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling Torzhok embroidery came into the room offering their services.

My wife--as she once was--did not struggle, and perhaps she was right.

But the story of the duel, confirmed by Pierre's rupture with his wife, was the talk of society.

Had his wife come to him, he would not have turned her away.

Compared to what preoccupied him, was it not a matter of indifference whether he lived with his wife or not?

Without replying either to his wife or his mother-in-law, Pierre late one night prepared for a journey and started for Moscow to see Joseph Alexeevich.

I told my wife that I begged her to forget the past, to forgive me whatever wrong I may have done her, and that I had nothing to forgive.

It seemed to him that he ought to have an explanation with Natasha and tell her that the old times must be forgotten, that in spite of everything... she could not be his wife, that he had no means, and they would never let her marry him.

Put him beside his wife and he looks a regular buffoon!

At that ball Pierre for the first time felt humiliated by the position his wife occupied in court circles.

Berg, judging by his wife, thought all women weak and foolish.

Berg rose and embraced his wife carefully, so as not to crush her lace fichu for which he had paid a good price, kissing her straight on the lips.

Husband and wife glanced at one another, both smiling with self-satisfaction, and each mentally claiming the honor of this visit.

I do not think he would choose her for a wife, and frankly I do not wish it.

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.

Such were Dimmler the musician and his wife, Vogel the dancing master and his family, Belova, an old maiden lady, an inmate of the house, and many others such as Petya's tutors, the girls' former governess, and other people who simply found it preferable and more advantageous to live in the count's house than at home.

And tapping with her heels, she ran quickly upstairs to see Vogel and his wife who lived on the upper story.

But instead of all that--here he was, the wealthy husband of an unfaithful wife, a retired gentleman-in-waiting, fond of eating and drinking and, as he unbuttoned his waistcoat, of abusing the government a bit, a member of the Moscow English Club, and a universal favorite in Moscow society.

She was the Countess Bezukhova, Pierre's wife, and the count, who knew everyone in society, leaned over and spoke to her.

She vividly pictured herself as Prince Andrew's wife, and the scenes of happiness with him she had so often repeated in her imagination, and at the same time, aglow with excitement, recalled every detail of yesterday's interview with Anatole.

That Prince Andrew's deeply loved affianced wife--the same Natasha Rostova who used to be so charming--should give up Bolkonski for that fool Anatole who was already secretly married (as Pierre knew), and should be so in love with him as to agree to run away with him, was something Pierre could not conceive and could not imagine.

Amuse yourself with women like my wife--with them you are within your rights, for they know what you want of them.

The expression of that base and cringing smile, which Pierre knew so well in his wife, revolted him.

Mary Hendrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a pretty young German woman he had married in Poland.

The doctor, whether from lack of means or because he did not like to part from his young wife in the early days of their marriage, took her about with him wherever the hussar regiment went and his jealousy had become a standing joke among the hussar officers.

Seeing his gloomy face as he frowned at his wife, the officers grew still merrier, and some of them could not refrain from laughter, for which they hurriedly sought plausible pretexts.

When he had gone, taking his wife with him, and had settled down with her in their covered cart, the officers lay down in the tavern, covering themselves with their wet cloaks, but they did not sleep for a long time; now they exchanged remarks, recalling the doctor's uneasiness and his wife's delight, now they ran out into the porch and reported what was taking place in the covered trap.

To ride this horse was a pleasure to him, and he thought of the horse, of the morning, of the doctor's wife, but not once of the impending danger.

Be quiet, I tell you! cried the count, with a glance at his wife, who had turned pale and was staring fixedly at her son.

A tradesman's wife standing beside Petya sobbed, and the tears ran down her cheeks.

A tradesman's wife was showing a rent in her shawl and telling how much the shawl had cost; another was saying that all silk goods had now got dear.

Suffering is necessary... the meaning of all... one must harness... my wife is getting married...

When he had parted from Malvintseva Nicholas wished to return to the dancing, but the governor's little wife placed her plump hand on his sleeve and, saying that she wanted to have a talk with him, led him to her sitting room, from which those who were there immediately withdrew so as not to be in her way.

The first time he had recourse to his new judge was when a French prisoner, a colonel, came to him and, after talking a great deal about his exploits, concluded by making what amounted to a demand that Pierre should give him four thousand francs to send to his wife and children.

My wife thought he should go or Howie should simply kiss his mother's hand, give an excuse of pressing business, and come back east.

And I'll be a faithful wife and he'll be the happiest guy in Keene.

I couldn't block out of my mind, my wife's statement a few days ago; think of all the children who he could be saving.

I considered waiting until morning before speaking to my wife but I knew I wouldn't sleep anyway.

No, I decided, Betsy was my wife and I loved her dearly.

I wasn't surprised by my wife's quick reaction.

My wife began to cry and snuggled close to me.

My wife grabbed my arm.

I was stewing over my third cup of coffee when my wife returned, with Julie and Molly in tow.

I turned to my wife.

A few hours ago, my wife was calling Molly's mother Julie a bitch, now, with a quickly appointed kinship, she was her assigned sister!

I was dialing my wife to tell her when Martha and Quinn came in the office, pushing a baby carriage with Claire smiling beneath her blankets.

Don't say that! his wife countered.

His question was designed to contradict his wife.

I don't suppose you'd go if you say your wife can't.

There I'd try to get some time alone with my wife and mull through this train ride to oblivion.

My wife was as thrilled to entertain our guest as Molly was to be there.

I telephoned my wife and told her of the situation.

I looked at my wife intently.

While Martha was on the phone trying to get our air conditioning system checked, I had a few moments alone with my wife.

When I looked over at my wife I could see a tear seep down her cheek.

Thanks to my wife's calm and nurturing manner the balance of the morning passed peacefully.

Now I would muddy the waters even more by contacting Daniel Brennan, another fact I planned to withhold from all but my wife.

I couldn't sit still in the office alone and I frankly I wanted the company of my wife.

My name is Ben Gustefson and I'm living in Keene, New Hampshire with my wife Betsy.

My wife will back me up.

Not so, between Betsy and Martha, according to my wife.

My wife was seriously distressed.

My wife proceeded to say how sorry we were about his mother's death.

They must have stores there, said my wife, annoyance ringing in her voice.

Yeah. That's all Ronnie want's to discuss with people, like his wife's son is some kind of freak.

My wife bought it and she'll kill me.

My later proved to be several hours when I opened eyes to a crying wife, white covers, bright lights, stuff attached to me and lots of pain.

My wife leaned close and kissed me.

Sensing someone behind me, I turned just enough to see my wife sitting in a chair, her eyes closed.

I heard another sound as Molly came across the room and stood behind my wife.

My wife bit her lip not to cry.

I was discharged before noon and driven home by my wife.

I agreed with my wife but pointed out even though Bryce had tracked us down, I couldn't think of any other slip ups besides Julie's contest that would point to us.

I could see my wife's nervousness; picking at her fingers, chewing her lip, twirling her hair.

My wife's pronouncement wasn't unexpected.

My wife looked concerned as she dished out homemade chili and corn bread.

My wife got up from the table.

It was my wife and she was in tears.

While I waited for my, wife's return I sifted through the startling news she'd told me.

According to Betsy, on the note Martha left, she said Quinn was coming back east to meet up with his wife and daughter and leave from here.

I wasted no time telephoning the Leblanc's number to encourage my wife to return home.

My wife was overdue and I was concerned.

I turned to my wife as I hung up the phone.

While I dreaded frightening my wife further, I knew I owed her the information on the motor home.

Yes. He said he was sorry but he and Martha said they had to call it quits and he was going back to be with his wife and child.

He said his wife and child just arrived.

Wife and kid must have just come today.

If my wife was so sympathetic, shouldn't I be too?

I thought about what my wife said as I looked around our beautiful property.

After that introduction, my wife listened; for more than five minutes, while Howie apparently continued to ramble.

I know, my wife answered.

Earlier, my wife had taken care of all the logistics of our travels while I locked up the house and called Jackson to tell him we would be out of town for a couple of days, retrieving Howie from California.

Howie was patient but I wanted some time to talk to my wife in privacy.

I moseyed out by the pool to await my wife's return.

It's not finished if you, you're wife and California friends are still alive.

My wife and I had promised each other to remain constantly in phone contact after the close calls in New Hampshire.

Sorry, my wife is missing and in danger.

I wanted to shout something like Dracula is out of his casket and has a thirst for my wife's A-negative blood, but I bit my tongue and begged that this was truly an emergency.

I think my wife, a friend and a young girl are shopping at your mall and I believe they're in danger!

The woman in there was with my wife and a young child!

I think the man who did it may have taken my wife and a young girl.

I think he may have my wife and the daughter of the woman they just brought in.

I have to get back to the mall and find out about my wife!

Now let's try and locate your wife and the little girl.

It's his wife who was attacked.

A clerk in the shoe department saw a guy and his wife carrying a child.

I peered over her shoulder and saw my wife.

My wife walked stiffly beside the abductor.

I hoped to god my wife was smarter than John Luke Grasso.

All the while, I couldn't block the vision of the wife I so loved, being herded at knife point.

The hunt for my wife and Molly commenced at the scene of the blue van.

Julie has greater needs which Molly nurtures while Molly's needs are supported by my wife.

Damian grimaced, recalling the last time he'd seen the beautiful woman, his slain brother's wife.

I don't know if I trust my wife, brother.

His slain brother's wife had always been a painful sight for him, the reminder of his brother and a happier time before the Schism.

If she's flipping out, you can call Lon's wife, Linda.

His wife's death was by his own hand.

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.

She bore a look of defeated resignation as Dean and his wife joined her.

Dean followed his wife but she dismissed his concern.

But Murf's wife dragged him back to California.

Dean looked at his wife.

He climbed into bed next to his wife but didn't turn off the light.

Dean held his wife closely, expecting more tears, but they didn't come.

After a hurried shower, he dressed and joined his silent wife in serving the gathering guests.

Dean felt satisfaction that his wife's dark mood had improved, but Martha's departure remained on her mind.

He took a deep breath and buzzed his wife to pick up.

Dean and his wife joined the group, followed by Brandon Westlake, Pumpkin Green, and a newly arrived Midwesterner named Hank.

Though whips and chains wouldn't have gotten him to admit it, he was so insanely jealous of his brother's moment of glory he would have sold his soul and auctioned wife Ginger to have done the same damn thing.

Even David Dean, although he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut in front of his wife, was forced to cross every finger of both hands.

The land went to his wife but then she died a few years later.

Dean turned to his wife.

Presumably, his wife was correct and "bitch" referred to a woman.

He knew his wife was right.

After a jotted message to his wife who was back on the wire, Dean was on his way.

To get away from the temptation and bring Cynthia up to date, he left the festive group of plunderers and joined his wife in their room.

Dean wandered back to the kitchen, where his wife was fixing supper.

Dean handed the phone to his wife as the light went on like in the comic books—a flashing bulb of inspiration.

Both Dean and his wife felt comfortable with Fred researching the identity of the skeleton as long as Fred remained unaware of any direct connection to the Dawkinses.

My wife and I promised we'd research the matter for her.

I went off to college and messed around some—did all the stuff you're supposed to do at that age—but when I came back home ten years later, Paul's wife had died.

We were husband and wife.

Look, I feel like a fool asking embarrassing questions, especially to someone as kind as you've been, but my wife and I promised a little girl we'd follow up on this.

You sound like my wife, but 'Any man's death diminishes me because I'm involved in mankind.'

Besides, my wife is itching to photograph the wildflowers.

Dean, the big spender, reached for one ticket, but a look from his wife changed his purchase to seven.

Cynthia's allotted tour of duty was finished, so he took his wife's hand and they walked to the corner for a better view of the parade.

Dean looked at his wife for help, but she just shrugged and smiled, and Dean let himself be led up the street.

It was here Dean was finally able to tell his wife about meeting Paul Senior's widow and his offer to show her the high country property in litigation.

The women looked frightened, Faust actually ducked, and David Dean moved to the cover of a nearby boulder, pulling his wife along with him.

It was Dean's turn to give his wife a look of caution.

His wife continued her stare.

Dawkins, Sr. had never hired another mine manager after Josh and never so much as mentioned the Lucky Pup after that time—to his sons or his wife.

Dean had filled his wife in on his morning's meeting while giving her a hand with the chores.

Dean rubbed his fingers through his hair and looked at his wife.

Dean laughed at first at his wife's suggestion, but the more he thought about it, the more the idea had a ring of validity to it.

Dean sensed his wife looked forward to the service and it helped her to come to terms with her son's sudden marriage.

His wife called to him almost as soon as she opened the door.

You outsize my wife by a foot and a hundred pounds.

He hates your guts big time—your little wife, too.

Dean and his wife followed as he introduced the women.

Dean wondered if there was another, more sinister reason for Paul Dawkins' silence on the subject—that he was the murderer of his wife's natural father.

Matters of warrants and probable cause escaped his wife's rationale, replaced by her conscience, which stood firmly in charge.

Finally things calmed down enough to give Dean and his wife a few minutes of free time.

Dean looked to his wife.

His wife motioned toward the mine entrance out of sight in the rocks and trees.

Dean took his wife's hand and pulled her to her feet and held her until her sobbing subsided.

Ralph had a wife and family.

Finally, Lydia said, "I told your wife I was going to ask you," then added, "I really underestimated that woman."

Dean asked as he joined his wife in the kitchen.

Dean looked at his wife inquisitively.

Later, David Dean called Lydia—from bed after making love to his wife.

He likes having a wife who wants him to boss her around.

Maybe it was a relationship that was difficult for the modern wife to understand.

Lori was his wife and the mother of his child.

Not the abbreviated version contrived for a witless or hysterical wife, but the whole thing – including any designs Lori has on you... or you have for her.

Maybe Lori wanted Alex to think his wife was having an affair.

Why had he put her in his will instead of his wife?

She probably wasn't thinking clearly enough to realize how badly it would have hurt Alex to think his wife was cheating.

Or is it somehow different when she's his wife?

This is my wife, Carmen.

Your wife is a beautiful woman.

I've got an awesome wife.

No, but I'd like to get home to my wife before midnight.

Romas had tossed her in bed more than once over the past three months, though he had stopped lecturing her on how unbecoming a lush was to a man looking for a wife.

She doesn't know that giving it to any man she comes across basically makes her his wife.

David Dean squeezed his wife's arm and bent over to kiss her.

He looked over at his wife.

The letters, eleven in all, were not from Ouray, but to a Ouray minister's wife, from her sister, a Boston matron.

Dean started to protest but his wife began carrying the packed ornaments from the room and asked in her sweetest tone if he could remove the now-dried Christmas tree and finish a short list of Bird Song chores she'd drawn up earlier.

Fred was still gabbing on the phone so Dean shared with his wife the last of the turkey salad, extended mileage from the Christmas turkey of ten days earlier.

Dean spent much time clinging to the sideboards until his wife, with a heart full of charity and an arm about his waist, supported him in slow glides around the oval.

Did you locate the Reverend Martin and his wife?

She was a minister's wife and did lots of good for folks.

Why would a minister's wife have a code book?

No. But any code a minister's wife of the last century put together can't be all that sophisticated, can it?

David Dean felt a momentary twinge of the here-we-go-agains that floated by on the wings of his wife's question.

No wife beater does.

He undressed while his wife was still in the bathroom and was in bed when she entered the room.

Dean and his wife firmly stated, in close harmony, it was none of any of their business.

Dean explained to his wife the number of times in his police career he'd seen battered women refuse to follow through when confronted by their abusive mate.

Said you told him his wife wasn't staying at Bird Song.

She claims he's a wife beater.

He mentioned the term kidnapping, but of course being the saint he is he wouldn't press charges against his wife who according to him was just temporarily disturbed.

Do you think he's a wife beater?

Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled inwardly at his wife's concern as he looked for a place to turn around the jeep.

While he wanted to avoid further involvement in Edith Shipton's troubled world, he felt proud of his wife inherent sense of compassion toward anyone in trouble.

Fred and his juvenile helpers had located a picture of Reverend Martin and his wife in an old museum collection of early Ouray papers and photos.

His wife Annie was dour and a bit on the chunky side.

Dean's suggestion of placing the little fellow out of doors in the trash was overruled by his more compassionate wife who pointed out the resulting reduced chances of January survival.

When Dean told his wife about the bearded man who seemed to be following Edith Shipton, Cynthia just shook her head.

I haven't found an account of her death in the papers yet but her hubby died of the flu in '04 and it didn't mention his wife in his write up.

He lost his beautiful wife and died so young himself.

Fella had my shoe size and his wife gave me a whale of a deal.

Not only this here coded notebook but questions like why was a minister's wife squirreling away $27.50 in gold coins in her comb?

She looked past David Dean to his wife.

He called the local sheriff in Ouray and said he plans to come out and haul his 'mentally stressed wife' back East with him.

Effie immediately asked her about the missing portrait of the reverend and his wife.

He was sweet as sugar—just a concerned husband looking out for his wife's welfare.

Dean looked up at his wife after reading the strange lines.

That doesn't sound like any minister's wife I ever knew!

The Reverend and his wife were supposed to have administered to the working girls.

The museum can't open for hours, Dean asked his wife as he helped clean up the dining room.

Dean turned to his wife as Ryland and his son began packing his gear.

Donnie remained with his father and his new found ice climbing friends while Dean took his wife's hand and strolled further down the snow covered path, away from the edge.

You must be the innkeeper's wife.

That's where you go to sleep with someone else's wife.

His wife is in the bucks, too.

Dean just looked at his wife.

At least she's casting herself as a minister's wife and not a soiled dove.

Does Claire have the museum's picture of Rev. Martin and his wife?

Later, after Dean had performed his night-closing duties and undressed, his wife handed him the results of her latest efforts.

But Edith's Annie was a minister's wife, not a common prostitute.

Was Edith's vivid imagination working overtime or had Jerome Shipton managed to slip by Janet O'Brien and invade his wife's room?

Dean put his arm around his wife's trembling shoulders.

Then, his forty-year-old wife totally surprised him.

He offered an exchange for a later getaway weekend at Bird Song for the man and his wife.

It was a scene from another time as Dean's friend and his smiling wife handed the reins to the urban couple.

Dean started a fire for the returning guests but then joined his wife and stepfather in the kitchen.

He gave his wife a hug.

He wondered if this beautiful, loving, compassionate wife of his whom he loved so dearly, was really capable of killing another human being.

He and his wife, who's as nutty as Planters, aren't on anyone's top one hundred list of the rich and famous.

What does his wife say about that?

In an attempt to calm his wife's progressive nervousness, and because he too felt like a snort, Dean broke out a jug of left over Christmas cheer.

He let go of Donnie's hand and turned to his wife, with more of a leer than a look of love.

He turned, and was off up the stairs, propelling his bewildered wife before him.

The others beat a hasty retreat as soon as they learned there were no fatalities, finally leaving Dean and his wife alone, with only Janet obliviously scrubbing away somewhere above.

Dean tried to hold his wife but she pulled away.

Dean searched for his wife but didn't spot Cynthia's colorful ski jacket among the pockets of viewers.

But Dean's first priority was his wife Cynthia and he continued to jog, forced to concentrate on his footing if he were to remain upright in the gathering snow.

Dean pitied his wife, knowing the grueling trip that lay before her over the next several hours, not knowing what awaited her landing.

Dean stomped his feet and entered his home, for the first time absent his wife.

Janet O'Brien had just told me my wife's mother had a heart attack, for God's sake!

He was an egotistical wife beater.

If you want my opinion, I'd have to say, look to the wife.

I'm worried sick about my wife stranded who knows where.

Dean telephoned Cynthia's mother's number and his wife answered on the first ring.

Yes, I despised the son of a bitch, especially after he grabbed my wife's breast ten feet away from me.

Why did you tell Jerome Shipton his wife wasn't registered here?

Look, Edith Shipton had just poured her heart out to my wife and me that she had run away from an abusive husband and was hiding.

When is your wife returning?

The police spoke to Fred next, while Dean strolled back toward his quarters, with Corday's question concerning his wife's return echoing in his mind.

But then he pictured his beautiful wife, her unfailingly sweet and kind nature, and refused his mind's picture of her kneeling there in the snow, calmly sawing Shipton's rope until it parted, plunging him to his bloody death.

Your wife let him make a copy.

The police haven't even informed his wife if her husband is dead or alive!

That certainly wasn't my wife's doing.

A dog barked down the alley and Dean turned to see a man walking a collie as his wife looked on from a doorway.

He crossed his fingers that he was ahead of the police, and his wife would be there to answer.

My dearest Joshua has been absent for near a week now, bound to the duties of his calling, and those of his wife who is much involved in the charities of our city.

As Dean drew close to Bird Song, he resolved to ask his wife point blank if she witnessed Donnie Ryland cutting his stepfather's climbing rope in an attempt to send him to his death.

Dean brought Fred up to date on not only the telephone call to his wife, but his meeting with Weller and his speculation that Cynthia might have seen Donnie Ryland near the accident scene.

I could see how Shipton might hate his wife.

While he knew he'd have to speak to Corday sooner or later, he hoped to first learn the reason for his wife's reticence about discussing the ice park fall.

I don't want a gang of storm troopers invading my mother-in-law's house at midnight to ask my wife a few simple questions.

It was then he began the slow realization that it was not his beloved wife who spooned against his back in nakedness, sharing his bed!

We can leave Ouray, leave your wife behind.

He just wanted his wife back in Bird Song.

All he wanted was to be alone so he could call his wife back and beg for her understanding.

I think your wife caught you two together and took off.

The last thing he wanted now was for the police to interview his wife so soon after she'd hung up on him as he lay in bed with the now-dead Edith Shipton.

To Dean, his reputation mattered only in the eyes of one person, his wife.

I was trying to get a naked woman the hell out of my bed, just after my wife caught her there!

Instead, he returned to Bird Song to once more try to contact his wife.

He'd even considered his wife might have killed Shipton.

Dean and his wife looked at one another.

He has to pick up his wife's belongings, too.

Said it was for all the trouble he and his wife caused Bird Song.

During his in-and-out-of-it hospital stay both his wife and stepfather had refrained from questioning him.