The familiar details came out: the stag's horns, the bookshelves, the looking-glass, the stove with its ventilator, which had long wanted mending, his father's sofa, a large table, on the table
an open book, a broken ash tray, a manuscript book with his handwriting.
Enamoured of the South, of Provence, of its people, its life, its sunshine and its poetry, narrow-chested, tall and short- sighted, he strode along the streets and the lanes, his long feet projecting far in advance of his body, and his white nose and gingery moustache buried in
an open book: for he had the habit of reading as he walked.
Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with
an open book in his hand.
"We are lost!" was written as plainly upon Taylor's face as though his features were the printed words upon
an open book. He was thinking of the launch, and of the launch alone.
Still she was not astonished when, as she was partaking of a modest dinner late in the afternoon, looking into
an open book, stroking the cat, which had made friends with her--she was not greatly astonished to see Robert come in at the tall garden gate.
"A learned man in a cynical and torn dress holding
an open book in his hand."
It was Tars Tarkas, and I could read his thoughts as they were
an open book for the undisguised loathing upon his face.
"By those who, at Havre, had, with infernal perspicacity, read my heart like
an open book."
To him, the trail of the raiders would be as plain as the printed page of
an open book to her.
The white-headed boy then put
an open book, astonishingly dog's-eared upon his knees, and thrusting his hands into his pockets began counting the marbles with which they were filled; displaying in the expression of his face a remarkable capacity of totally abstracting his mind from the spelling on which his eyes were fixed.
Instead of looking up at us in her usual straightforward way, she sat close at the table, and kept her eyes fixed obstinately on
an open book.
No longer was there a single jungle spoor but was
an open book to the keen eyes of the lad, and those other indefinite spoor that elude the senses of civilized man and are only partially appreciable to his savage cousin came to be familiar friends of the eager boy.
The day was damp, and they were not going to walk out, so they both went up to their sitting-room; and there Celia observed that Dorothea, instead of settling down with her usual diligent interest to some occupation, simply leaned her elbow on
an open book and looked out of the window at the great cedar silvered with the damp.
On the surface of the ground or through the swaying branches of the trees the spoor of man or beast was
an open book to the ape-man, but even his acute senses were baffled by the spoorless trail of the airship.
The boy was sitting with his elbows on the table, and his head leaning on his hands, and before him
an open book, on which his tears were falling fast.
