Gypsy stopped talking. She was breathing hard. Rico was just looking at her, far too assessingly, and she cursed herself for having said too much.

... an idea taken up by Percier and Fontaine, who also supplied the Corinthian order and transverse arcades cadencing the gallery's length today

In that vein, I would like to dedicate this book to the drivers of tonight's heat: to Aimee, Ben, Mike, Sebastian, Elizabeth, Ro, Chris, Anna, John, Alice, and Lauren—bad-to-the-bone outlaw crushers every last one of you—yo' momma.

A fine man, that Dunwody, yonder, commented the young captain, as they parted, and as he turned to his prisoner. We'll see him on in Washington some day. He is strengthening his forces now against Mr. Benton out there. […].