Mrs. Minto looked over her magnifying glass at Sally in a bewildered way.
Over the leaves in Miss Minto's cup she frowned through her clouded glasses.
The story of Defoe's adventurous life may be followed with keen interest in Mr. Minto's attractive book.
Sally's mother, Mrs. Minto, was yawning by the small fire in the grate.
In a former essay I have demonstrated the truth of Professor Minto's suggestion.
Mrs. Minto wriggled her skinny shoulders and fingered her chin.
It is curious to note that in 1374 the church of Minto belonged to the diocese of Lincoln.
Mrs. Minto sighed, and looked at the clock, frowning and wriggling her shoulders.
Mrs. Minto seized the hand, squeezed it hard, and pored over the brilliants.
They were not altogether unlike; but Mrs. Minto had taken the wrong turning.