Blotted

Examples

• I swallowed some lavender-drops and tried to write: blotted twenty sheets of paper with unintelligible nonsense and wetted them with my tears. Harriette Wilson. The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson.
• If it had been written straight off, and then blotted, none would be of a deep black shade. Arthur Conan Doyle. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
• A blinding gust of smoke blotted out the tragedy within that fearsome cell--a shriek rang out, a single shriek, as the dagger fell. Edgar Rice Burroughs. The Gods of Mars.
• The heath and changes of weather were quite blotted out from their eyes for the present. Thomas Hardy. The Return of the Native.
• The name of the firm is accidentally blotted in my diary, and my sacred regard for truth forbids me to hazard a guess in a matter of this kind. Wilkie Collins. The Moonstone.
• It's very much blotted, sir,' said the farmer of infants; 'but it's formal enough, I dare say. Charles Dickens. Oliver Twist.
• A vast shadow, in which could be dimly traced portions of a masculine contour, blotted half the ceiling. Thomas Hardy. The Return of the Native.
• The few blotted hurriedly-written lines which were traced on it contained these words: Come back as soon as you can. Wilkie Collins. The Woman in White.
• His note- book, blotted with the tears of sympathising humanity, lies open before us; one word, and it is in the printer's hands. Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers.
• Darkness comes before my eyes; and, for a time, all things are blotted out of my remembrance. Charles Dickens. David Copperfield.
• It was a foolish precipitation last Christmas, but the evil of a few days may be blotted out in part. Jane Austen. Mansfield Park.
• When it was written she blotted it neatly and handed it to Archer. Edith Wharton. The Age of Innocence.
• His name is entirely blotted from my good books. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• The writing-book, still on the table, was blotted with his hand. William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity Fair.
• It slid before the Lime Rock, blotted out Ida Lewis's little house, and passed across the turret in which the light was hung. Edith Wharton. The Age of Innocence.
• A pencil-writing, on a crushed and torn piece of paper, blotted with wet. Charles Dickens. Bleak House.
• I--hum--I necessarily make that appeal within limited bounds, or I--ha--should render legible, by that lady, what I desire to be blotted out. Charles Dickens. Little Dorrit.
• In the little glass above her dressing-table she saw her face reflected against the shadows of the room, and tears blotted the reflection. Edith Wharton. The House of Mirth.
• Only this blotted out her mind, pressed out her very breathing, his silent, stooping back, the back of his head. D. H. Lawrence. Women in Love .
• It was a strange handwriting, and the paper was much soiled and blotted. Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers.
• But they are blotted out. Charles Dickens. Bleak House.
• Its leaves were blotted all over with relics of the firm, strong, rapid handwriting of the spinster's late amanuensis, Mrs. Bute Crawley. William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity Fair.
• Even her great beauty is blotted out of one's memory by her scornful ways. Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell. North and South.

Typist: Marion