When the king got to the bottom, he ordered Cat-skin to be called once more, and soon saw the white finger
, and the ring that he had put on it whilst they were dancing: so he seized her hand, and kept fast hold of it, and when she wanted to loose herself and spring away, the fur cloak fell off a little on one side, and the starry dress sparkled underneath it.
He looked down upon the now lifeless figure, raised the still, white fingers
in his for a moment, and laid them reverently down.
It seemed to him that the rings hung a little loosely upon the thin, white fingers
. She was pale, too, and her eyes were weary.
When our dignified President thought he had caught my eye, and made oratorical overtures to me from the top of the table, I was lost in the contemplation of silk purses and white fingers
I loved him for it better than I liked to express: and I took a secret delight in pressing those slender white fingers
, so marvellously like her own, considering he was not a woman, and in watching the passing changes in his fair, pale features, and observing the intonations of his voice, detecting resemblances which I wondered had never struck me before.
Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a moment thoughtfully at her long white fingers
glittering with rings.
and nimble tore at the string and paper.
That was the process going on in poor Rosamond, while she arranged all objects around her with the same nicety as ever, only with more slowness-- or sat down to the piano, meaning to play, and then desisting, yet lingering on the music stool with her white fingers
suspended on the wooden front, and looking before her in dreamy ennui.
Aramis leaned still more forward, and dipped the ends of his long white fingers
in the green limpid waters of the sea, to which he turned with smiles as to a friend.
Capricious, variable, close, giddy, free, prudish, a virgin armed with claws, Erigone stained with grapes, she sometimes overturned, with a single dash of her white fingers
, or with a single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice which had exhausted Malicorne's patience for a month.
He now approached the sick man with the noiseless step of one in full vigor of life, with his delicate white fingers
raised from the green quilt the hand that was free, and turning sideways felt the pulse and reflected a moment.
His frail white fingers
were listlessly toying with something which looked, to my uninstructed eyes, like a dirty pewter medal with ragged edges, when I advanced within a respectful distance of his chair, and stopped to make my bow.