With a snappy "Good-morning, Pitcher," Maxwell dashed at his
desk as though he were intending to leap over it, and then plunged into the great heap of letters and telegrams waiting there for him.
Next day Amy was rather late at school, but could not resist the temptation of displaying, with pardonable pride, a moist brown-paper parcel, before she consigned it to the inmost recesses of her
desk. During the next few minutes the rumor that Amy March had got twenty- four delicious limes (she ate one on the way) and was going to treat circulated through her `set', and the attentions of her friends became quite overwhelming.
As he sunk to the floor I wheeled around with my back toward the nearest
desk, expecting to be overwhelmed by the vengeance of his fellows, but determined to give them as good a battle as the unequal odds would permit before I gave up my life.
Here, finding myself well screened from public view, I broke open the
desk with the help of the stone, and began to look over the contents.
There were a couple of long old rickety
desks, cut and notched, and inked, and damaged, in every possible way; two or three forms; a detached
desk for Squeers; and another for his assistant.
Every day he took a mysterious book out of his
desk and absorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting.
He searched amongst the papers on his
desk and brought out at last a flimsy half-sheet of notepaper which he studied carefully.
Stryver, leaning his arms confidentially on the
desk: whereupon, although it was a large double one, there appeared to be not half
desk enough for him: "I am going to make an offer of myself in marriage to your agreeable little friend, Miss Manette, Mr.
The individual at the
desk rose and departed, closing the door as he went out.
One Sunday morning in the summer as he sat by his
desk in the room with a large Bible opened be- fore him, and the sheets of his sermon scattered about, the minister was shocked to see, in the upper room of the house next door, a woman lying in her bed and smoking a cigarette while she read a book.
Unopened letters and unsorted papers lay strewn about the
desk. In the midst of these tokens of prostrated energy and dismissed hope, the master of the Counting-house stood idle in his usual place, with his arms crossed on the
desk, and his head bowed down upon them.
This difficulty overcome, he took his seat at the
desk.