References in classic literature ?
She was only a few inches high, and was dressed in green, so that you really would hardly have noticed her among the long grass; and she was so delicate and graceful that she quite seemed to belong to the place, almost as if she were one of the flowers.
Dear Lord Illingworth is quite hopeless, Lady Stutfield.
But, mind you, though Peter was so slow in going back to his mother, he was quite decided to go back.
Quite otherwise indeed, if I understood Miss Fairfax's opinion last night."
I have tried to get on a little better under Mrs General's instruction, and I hope I am not quite so dull as I used to be.
They were quite familiar objects to Maimie, but she had never known what they were for until to-night.
When she had had a headache in India she had done her best to see that everybody else also had a headache or something quite as bad.
All was very quiet, and she went on again--not absolutely frightened, but a little quicker than before perhaps, and possibly not quite so much at her ease, for a check of that kind is startling.
All this while, Louisa had been passing on, so quiet and reserved, and so much given to watching the bright ashes at twilight as they fell into the grate, and became extinct, that from the period when her father had said she was almost a young woman - which seemed but yesterday - she had scarcely attracted his notice again, when he found her quite a young woman.
It was quite impossible to find language to express the degree of mental prostration to which such an adventurous wight would be reduced in the keen encounter with Tim Linkinwater, so Tim gave up the rest of his declaration in pure lack of words, and mounted his stool again.
But as that wouldn't do in Westminster Hall, and as it wouldn't look quite professional if they were seen by a client, they decamped.
Lebedeff said this so seriously that the prince quite lost his temper with him.
"'Good-bye,' said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.
He had a nice little bow in his hand, but it was quite spoiled by the rain, and the tints of his many-colored arrows ran one into the other.
In his bed the writer rolled over on his side and lay quite still.