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As he surveyed the place in silent wonder, a sullen groan arose from beneath the spot where he stood. His blood ran cold at the sound, but silence returning, and continuing unbroken, he attributed his alarm to the illusion of a fancy, which terror had impregnated. He made another effort to force the door, when a groan was repeated more hollow, and more dreadful than the first. At this moment all his courage forsook him; he quitted the door, and hastened to the stair-case, which he ascended almost breathless with terror.,

Beauty spent three months in the castle, more or less happily. The Beast paid her a visit every evening, and conversed with her as she ate her supper, showing good sense in his talk, but not what the world deems cleverness. Every day Beauty discovered some fresh good quality in the monster; she grew accustomed to his ugliness, and far from fearing his visit, she would often look at her watch to see if it was nearly nine o'clock, for the Beast always arrived punctually at that hour. There was only one thing which caused distress to Beauty, and that was, that every evening before retiring, the monster asked her if she would be his wife, and always appeared overcome with sorrow at her refusal. One day she said to him, "You grieve me, Beast; I wish it were possible for me to marry you, but I am too truthful to make you believe that such a thing could ever happen; I shall always be your friend, try to be satisfied with that." "I suppose I must," responded the Beast; "I know I am horrible to look upon, but I love you very much. However, I am but too happy that you consent to remain here; promise me that you will never leave me." The colour came into Beauty's face; her mirror had shown her that her father was ill with the grief of losing her, and she was hoping to see him again. "I would promise without hesitation never to leave you," said Beauty to him, "but I do so long to see my father again, that I shall die of sorrow if you refuse me this pleasure." "I would rather die myself," said the monster, "than give you pain; I will send you home to your father, you will stay there, and your poor Beast will die of grief at your absence." "No, no," said Beauty, crying; "I care for you too much to wish to cause your death; I promise to return in a week's time. You have let me see that my sisters are married, and that my brothers have entered the army. My father is all alone, let me remain with him a week." "You shall be with him to-morrow morning, but remember your promise. When you wish to return, you have only to put your ring on the table before going to bed. Farewell, Beauty." The Beast gave his usual sigh as he said these words, and Beauty went to bed feeling troubled at the thought of the sorrow she had caused him. When she awoke the following morning, she found herself at home, and ringing a little bell that stood beside her bed, the maid-servant came in, who gave a loud cry of astonishment at seeing her there. Her father ran in on hearing the cry, and almost died of joy when he found his dear daughter, and they remained clasped in each other's arms for more than a quarter of an hour.,

“That is all I can stand now,” he said. “It is too wonderful.”,

"No one is stupid, who believes himself to be wanting in intelligence, it is the fool who is not aware of being without it." "Eat, Beauty," said the monster to her, "and try to find pleasure in your own house; for everything here belongs to you. I should be very sorry if you were unhappy." "You are everything that is kind," said Beauty. "I assure you that your goodness of heart makes me happy; when I think of that, you no longer appear so ugly to me." "Ah, yes!" replied the Beast, "I have a kind heart, but for all that I am a monster." "Many men are more monsters than you," said Beauty; "and I care more for you with your countenance, than for those who with their human face hide a false, corrupt, and ungrateful heart." "If I had sufficient wit," responded the Beast, "I would make you a pretty answer in return for your words; but I am too stupid for that, and all I can say is, that I am very grateful to you."

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Which in vain sober mortals would know.,

“Yep,” boasted Harper, “an’ mebbeso we can keep a-puttin’ it off ontwell they git plum tired of tryin’ to buck us cowmen.”,

“We can’t go back again, can we?” asked Bob. “There doesn’t seem to be anything else to do but to try the tunnel.”,

“Thank you, Aunt Grenertsen.”