1 A rising wind made some of the windows rattle.
2 Having done this, he got up and went over to the window.
3 He shivered and went back, closing the window behind him.
4 He turned round and, walking to the window, drew up the blind.
5 The sunset had smitten into scarlet gold the upper windows of the houses opposite.
6 Cloudless, and pierced by one solitary star, a copper-green sky gleamed through the windows.
7 The lad flushed up and, going to the window, looked out for a few moments on the green, flickering, sun-lashed garden.
8 "He is not a gentleman, Mother, and I hate the way he talks to me," said the girl, rising to her feet and going over to the window.
9 It was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that she waved the tattered lace handkerchief from the window, as her son drove away.
10 For a few moments he loitered upon the doorstep, looking round at the silent square, with its blank, close-shuttered windows and its staring blinds.
11 There he paused, hearing the slow heavy tread of the policeman on the pavement outside and seeing the flash of the bull's-eye reflected in the window.
12 As soon as he was dressed, he went into the library and sat down to a light French breakfast that had been laid out for him on a small round table close to the open window.
13 Some large blue china jars and parrot-tulips were ranged on the mantelshelf, and through the small leaded panes of the window streamed the apricot-coloured light of a summer day in London.
14 Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from the pillow, and with pallid face and tear-stained eyes, looked at him as he walked over to the deal painting-table that was set beneath the high curtained window.
15 Finally his bell sounded, and Victor came in softly with a cup of tea, and a pile of letters, on a small tray of old Sevres china, and drew back the olive-satin curtains, with their shimmering blue lining, that hung in front of the three tall windows.
16 There was a wild recklessness of gaiety in his manner as he sat at table, but now and then a thrill of terror ran through him when he remembered that, pressed against the window of the conservatory, like a white handkerchief, he had seen the face of James Vane watching him.
17 His mode of dressing, and the particular styles that from time to time he affected, had their marked influence on the young exquisites of the Mayfair balls and Pall Mall club windows, who copied him in everything that he did, and tried to reproduce the accidental charm of his graceful, though to him only half-serious, fopperies.
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