She laughed a soft, provocative laugh, and suddenly, without any warning, the cloak had fallen from her shoulders and she was dancing.
"The Safety Curtain, and Other Stories" by Ethel M. Dell
She began dancing in the snow, like a little white spirit, tossing her long hair, and laughing softly to herself.
"Old Peter's Russian Tales" by Arthur Ransome
He laughed softly to himself when the leaf fluttered and fell to the ground.
"Bunny Rabbit's Diary" by Mary Frances Blaisdell
But, Dexie," and he laughed softly, "you know it was a very cold kiss, after all.
"Miss Dexie" by Stanford Eveleth
You see, man was meant to be strong," and Moravia laughed softly, "wasn't he?
"The Man and the Moment" by Elinor Glyn
She leaned back in her chair and laughed softly.
"A Lost Leader" by E. Phillips Oppenheim
She struggled, freed herself from the detaining arms, and sprang away from her rejoicing companions, laughing softly.
"The Meadow-Brook Girls by the Sea" by Janet Aldridge
There came a soft laugh and a touch of a hand on his shoulder.
"Beatrix of Clare" by John Reed Scott
Lady Helen laughed softly.
"The Colonel of the Red Huzzars" by John Reed Scott
He was laughing softly.
"The Soldier of the Valley" by Nelson Lloyd
Now o'er the rural kingdom roves,
Soft pleasures with her laughing train,
Love warbles in the vocal groves,
And vegetation plants the plain.
"Spring" by Samuel Johnson
Soft wind rustles the leaves, and brightly
Wavers the light on the ferns and trees;
Water-ripples are laughing lightly,
Played upon by the sun and breeze.
"Middle Harbour" by John Le Gay Brereton
The soft ripples that laugh in the bay,
The soft shadows that sweep o'er the moor,
And the plunge of the tides at their prey
When they level the homes of the poor.
"A Te Deum" by Alfred Austin
Once, for a palace, Painting left her grove,
And taught her royal fav'rite's hand to trace
A beauteous maiden's tale of little Love,
His silken wings, soft limbs, and laughing face!
"Lines To Her Royal Highness The Princess Elizabeth" by Sir John Carr
And here my tawny Comrades laugh, and reach
Warm hands of mine-the dear brown hands I knew-
With glad, glad greetings in soft-voweled speech,
From hearts that have remembered and been true.
"At Anchor" by Ina Donna Coolbrith
Nor, jealous, soar to keep the Day
From laughing in each rippling bay,
But floating on the flood they love,
Soft whispering, kiss her breast, and seek
No passions of the air above,
No fires that burn the thunder-peak.
"The Isles Of Huron" by John Douglas Sutherland Campbell