"That must be either Miss Cornelia Bryant or Mrs. Moore coming to call," she said.
— from Anne's House of Dreams by L. M. (Lucy Maud) Montgomery

It hath an alderman, his deputy, common council twelve, constables seventeen, scavengers eighteen, wardmote inquest eighteen, and a beadle.
— from The Survey of London by John Stow

Tell him also what you have just told me--that Mazarin has placed me in the pavilion of the orangery in order to make me a visit, and assure him that I shall take advantage of this honor he proposes to accord to me to obtain from him some amelioration of our captivity.” “Which cannot last,” interrupted Comminges; “the cardinal said so; there is no prison here.”
— from Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas

“How canst thou complain,” she said tenderly, “when it is to that very imperfection of our enjoyment that we are indebted for its continuance?
— from The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Complete by Giacomo Casanova

“I choose the card?” said she.
— from Desert Dust by Edwin L. (Edwin Legrand) Sabin

All through the castle the charmed slumber spread.
— from The Sleeping Beauty by C. S. (Charles Seddon) Evans

She conceded the cloak, she submitted to the umbrella, she concealed her abhorrence of the pipe.
— from Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 69, No. 425, March, 1851 by Various

“I was wondering if people kneel down when they come to confession,” said Swanhild, with a simple directness which charmed him.
— from A Hardy Norseman by Edna Lyall

From the bushes to his left, not ten yards from where he stood, came the clear, sharp sound of a whistle.
— from The Pothunters by P. G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse

In view of these facts, it is unlikely that Oswald’s membership in a hunting club was contrived to conceal some sort of secret training.
— from Report of the President's Commission on the Assassination of President John F. Kennedy by United States. Warren Commission

They are fine, these moments of conflagration, of mineral incandescence, when the sober limestone rocks take on the tints of molten copper, their convulsed strata standing out like the ribs of some agonized Prometheus, while the plain, where every little stone casts an inordinate shadow behind it, clothes itself in demure shades of pearl.
— from Fountains in the Sand: Rambles Among the Oases of Tunisia by Norman Douglas

When she did make her voice heard by Herr Johannes and the coachman, she was nervous and ashamed, and met the equivocating pacification of the reply with an assent half-way, though she was far from comprehending the consolation she supposed that it was meant to convey.
— from Vittoria — Volume 4 by George Meredith