Inspirasi Kediri Bertutur

                                            • 51Smaller GesturesHand gestures are also part of the vocabulary of bodylanguage. They, too, can be divided into open gestures(positive responses) and closed or concealed gestures(negative responses), except that their range is far moreintricate and expressive. I should point out that individualgestures, just like the individual words on this page,don't say much. Only when you're presented with morethan one gesture, perhaps combined with an expressionand topped off with some overall body language, canyou deduce that a particular clenched fist means "Wow,my horse came in first!" and not "I'm so mad I want toslap him!"A similar set of differences occurs in body languageabove the neck. The open face smiles, makes eye contact,gives feedback, shows curiosity and raises the eyebrowsto show interest. In a casual encounter, a quicklook and a lowering of the eyes says, "I trust you. I'm notafraid of you." A prolonged look strengthens the positivesignal. In conversation, we may use a nod of the head atthe end of a statement to indicate that an answer isexpected.

                                                                                      • They drew up among the grey clapboard houses and shops marked DRUGS, BARBER, FARMERS BANK and WELLS FARGO, under a hissing gaslight outside a two-storey building which said in faded gold, PINK. GARTER SALOON, and underneath, Beers and Wines.
                                                                                        "Fourteen thousand I am bid. And fifteen. Fifteen thousand." The hammer came down. "Yours, sir."
                                                                                        Ralph the Heir, 1871 2500 0 0


                                                                                        "Who sent for you?" said the fat man. "You're not in the act."
                                                                                        I don't know why I didn't faint. Derek was standing, his face white as a sheet, clumsily buttoning up his trousers. I scrambled to my feet, banging against the wall of the box. I stood there, waiting to be killed, waiting to be shot dead.
                                                                                        Not finding Ham among the people whom this memorable wind - for it is still remembered down there, as the greatest ever known to blow upon that coast - had brought together, I made my way to his house. It was shut; and as no one answered to my knocking, I went, by back ways and by-lanes, to the yard where he worked. I learned, there, that he had gone to Lowestoft, to meet some sudden exigency of ship-repairing in which his skill was required; but that he would be back tomorrow morning, in good time.
                                                                                        'He is in his mother's arms,' said he.
                                                                                        When my friend left me, I set to work and wrote the first chapter or two. Up to this time I had continued that practice of castle-building of which I have spoken; but now the castle I built was among the ruins of that old house. The book, however, hung with me. It was only now and then that I found either time or energy for a few pages. I commenced the book in September, 1843, and had only written a volume when I was married in June, 1844.

                                                                                                                                • "I wish you were going to be there tomorrow, James." Her eyes were soft as she looked at him. Soft, but, he thought, somehow evasive.

                                                                                                                                                                          • 'No,' he said flatly, '. . . you . . .'

                                                                                                                                                                                                                    • Rape? Kill? What did I think was really going to happen to me? I didn't know. 1 only knew that I was in desperate trouble. The men's faces said so-the indifferent face and the greedy face. They both had it in for me. Why? I didn't know. But I was absolutely certain of it.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              • He told her "M." and walked out into the close-carpeted corridor and along, between the muted whizz and zing of the Communications Section, of which his Section was a neighbor, to the lift and up to the eighth.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • In bidding Youth become thy Foes.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            • “What?” I asked.