1 She encountered negro shanties turned into studios, with orange curtains and pots of mignonette; marble houses on New Hampshire Avenue, with butlers and limousines; and men who looked like fictional explorers and aviators.
2 Of course, she had discovered that this was not altogether true but the pleasant fiction still stuck in her mind.
3 She was fond of pictures and flowers, and of sentimental fiction, and she could not help thinking that the possession of such tastes ennobled her desire for worldly advantages.
4 She could not remember any fascinatingly wicked hero of fiction who chewed tobacco.
5 The widow-robbing deacon of fiction can't help being hypocritical.
6 They were carrying grapes, and women's-magazines, magazines with high-colored pictures and optimistic fiction.
7 It was not at all the "artist's studio" of which, because of its persistence in fiction, she had dreamed.
8 "Well, she's yours by a fiction of law, then," said St. Clare, as he turned back into the parlor, and sat down to his paper.
9 The note-book of a missionary, among the Canadian fugitives, contains truth stranger than fiction.
10 There was a fiction that Mr. Wopsle "examined" the scholars once a quarter.
11 But I began packing that same afternoon, and wildly packed up things that I knew I should want next morning, in a fiction that there was not a moment to be lost.
12 Whereas I now found Barnard to be a disembodied spirit, or a fiction, and his inn the dingiest collection of shabby buildings ever squeezed together in a rank corner as a club for Tom-cats.
13 There was a gay fiction among us that we were constantly enjoying ourselves, and a skeleton truth that we never did.
14 This was my third work of fiction.
15 I had also with me a somewhat old, but capacious hand-bag in which I had intended to place the manuscript of a work of fiction that I had written during my few unoccupied hours.