Over the hill - To be past your prime Spinning a yarn - To lie or exaggerate Under the weather - Feeling ill Bushed - Tired, completely exhausted Crash - To go to sleep Hit the hay - To go to bed On cloud nine - Extremely happy Dig deep - Look hard for information Dirt cheap - Very inexpensive Go downhill - Get progressively worse Up the creek - In trouble Take a raincheck - Accept at a later date In your face - An aggressive manner Prick up your ears - To listen intently Get out of hand - A situation which has resulted in chaos Break a leg - Good-luck An arm and a leg - Very expensive At the drop of a hat - without any hesitation New kid on the block - A newcomer See eye to eye two or more people agree at sth Let one's hair down - Relax, have fun Cry your heart out - Cry very hard My flesh and blood - Relative Have one's head in the clouds - Be unaware about smth By the skin of one's teeth - Just barely Rule of thumb - Basic rule
She is shallow, superficial and quite the gossip. She and her counterparts begin to talk about Anna and Vronsky. From what the Princess says, everyone knows that Anna and the count have some feelings for one another. Later on in the night, Anna and Vronsky both arrive at Betsy's, though separately. "Steps were heard at the door, and Princess Betsy, knowing it was Madame Karenina, glanced at Vronsky. He was looking toward the door, and his face wore a strange new expression. Joyfully, intently, and at the same time timidly, he gazed at the approaching figure, and slowly he rose to his feet." Karenin notices that his wife is spending a great deal of time talking with the count, and he doesn't have a problem with it initially. That starts to change, however, when everyone at the party begins to gossip and spread rumors about Anna and Vronsky. Karenin feels he has some business to straighten out with his wife:
butterscotch, but with the same golden tone. I didn't understand how that could be, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word. I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again. Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers. "So, Edward, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asked. "Bella," Edward corrected automatically. "Actually, she identified three of the five." Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical. "Have you done this lab before?" he asked. I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root." "Whitefish blastula?" "Yeah." Mr. Banner nodded. "Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?" "Yes."
countenance with a sweet and gentle expression. He turns and goes on, and the obstinate Dorine again lifts her hand behind his shoulder to urge Mariane to resistance: this time he catches her; but just as he swings his shoulder to give her the promised blow, she stops him by changing the intent of her gesture, and carefully picking from the top of his sleeve a bit of fluff which she holds carefully between her fingers, then blows into the air, and watches intently as it floats away. Orgon is paralysed by her innocence of expression, and compelled to hide his rage.--Regnier, /Le Tartuffe des Comediens/.] ORGON Daughter, you must approve of my design. . . . Think of this husband . . . I have chosen for you. . . (To Dorine) Why don't you talk to yourself? DORINE Nothing to say. ORGON One little word more. DORINE Oh, no, thanks. Not now. ORGON Sure, I'd have caught you. DORINE Faith, I'm no such fool. ORGON So, daughter, now obedience is the word;
" Mark gave a brief nod, but I was already lowering into the chair at Cross's command, my body obeying instinctively before my mind caught up and objected. I tried not to fidget for the next hour as Mark was grilled by Cross and the two Kingsman directors, both of whom were attractive brunettes in elegant pantsuits. The one in raspberry was especially enthusiastic about garnering Cross's attention, while the one in cream focused intently on my boss. All three seemed impressed by Mark's ability to articulate how the agency's work-and his facilitation of it with the client-created provable value for the client's brand. I admired how cool Mark remained under pressure-pressure exerted by Cross, who easily dominated the meeting. "Well done, Mr. Garrity," Cross praised lightly as they wrapped things up. "I look forward to going over the RFP when the time comes. What would entice you to try Kingsman, Eva?"
attended to her. His accompanying them was a double advantage; she felt all the compliment it offered to herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing him to her father and mother. Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her up stairs. When they had gained their own room, Jane, taking out the letter, said:
American ships. A little more than an hour after the hands of Honolulu clocks had snipped off December 6 and opened out into the first hours of December 7, the Pearl Harbor strike force received Tokyo's relay of Yoshikawa's final message. The American ships were still in harbor, awaiting the ax stroke with fat complacency. They were apparently not even protected by air search. Was it all a decoy? The strike force's radio officer, Commander Kanjiro Ono, listened intently to Honolulu's radio station KGMB for any inkling that the Americans knew of them. He heard only the soft melodies of the islands. On Hiryu, the flight deck officer slipped bits of paper between each plane's radio transmitter key and its contact point to make sure that radio silence, so carefully preserved for almost two weeks, would not be accidentally broken in the last few hours to destroy the element of surprise. As Yoshikawa's final report was being decoded aboard Akagi, Kramer
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