1 The blood rushed to Lily's forehead.
2 As she stooped to pick it up the blood rushed to her face.
3 Every drop of blood in Lily's veins invited her to happiness.
4 If it had been a simple instinct of the blood, the power of her beauty might have revived it.
5 The rise of her blood as their eyes met was succeeded by a contrary motion, a wave of resistance and withdrawal.
6 The blood had risen strongly under Selden's dark skin, but his emotion showed itself only in an added seriousness of manner.
7 She had not known again till today that lightness, that glow of freedom; but now it was something more than a blind groping of the blood.
8 She had not forgotten the night of emotion when she and Lily had lain in each other's arms, and she had seemed to feel her very heart's blood passing into her friend.
9 The thought of the ridicule struck deeper than any other sensation: Lily knew every turn of the allusive jargon which could flay its victims without the shedding of blood.
10 Its hint of future leniency made Rosedale rise in obedience to it, a little flushed with his unhoped-for success, and disciplined by the tradition of his blood to accept what was conceded, without undue haste to press for more.
11 In the whole work-room there was only one skin beneath which the blood still visibly played; and that now burned with vexation as Miss Bart, under the lash of the forewoman's comment, began to strip the hat-frame of its over-lapping spangles.