But she did not want to appear unamiable and uninterested
, so she had brought forth newspapers, which she spread upon the floor of the gallery, and under Madame Ratignolle's directions she had cut a pattern of the impervious garment.
Other people uninterested
in the sermon found relief in the beetle, and they eyed it too.
Archibald Craven, who lived at Misselthwaite Manor, she looked so stony and stubbornly uninterested
that they did not know what to think about her.
In the presence of two women scrutinizing her as if they suspected her of being there with no good purpose, a male passenger admiring her a little further off, her maid reading Trefusis's newspapers just out of earshot, an uninterested
country gentleman looking glumly out of window, a city man preoccupied with the "Economist," and a polite lady who refrained from staring but not from observing, she felt that she must not make a scene; yet she knew he had not come there to hold an ordinary conversation.
The sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself; another, and wholly uninterested
person, felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving.
For instance, a gentleman may stake, say, five or ten louis d'or--seldom more, unless he is a very rich man, when he may stake, say, a thousand francs; but, he must do this simply for the love of the game itself--simply for sport, simply in order to observe the process of winning or of losing, and, above all things, as a man who remains quite uninterested
in the possibility of his issuing a winner.
and Garm would shift one forepaw over the other, and curl himself round, leaving Bob to whine at a most uninterested
The trumpet-box was pouring out a string of the most elaborate abuse that even Kim had ever heard, in a high uninterested
voice, that for a moment lifted the short hairs of his neck.
Tulkinghorn in his methodical, subdued, uninterested
way, "first, whether you have any of Captain Hawdon's writing?
and perplexed faces of the marshals showed that they were puzzled as to what Balashev's tone suggested.
Is it due to excess of poetry or of stupidity that we are never weary of describing what King James called a woman's "makdom and her fairnesse," never weary of listening to the twanging of the old Troubadour strings, and are comparatively uninterested
in that other kind of "makdom and fairnesse" which must be wooed with industrious thought and patient renunciation of small desires?
And Van Horn, smoking his cigar in lordly indifferent fashion, kept his apparently uninterested
eyes glued to each boy who made his way aft, box on shoulder, and stepped out on the land.