Cabot turned back to the men and he was drunk with the thing they would do, wild to break from the cloying warmth of the saloon into the cold of the ebbing night.

It was only then that he turned to look at Penny.

Now, the next morning, they were anchored at The Elbow and the boat was riding directly over the underwater ledge where the green water turned to deepest blue and the cliff dropped straight down 600 fathoms, with the weighted line beside it ; ;

The weather turned warmer and with it came better appetites, although Harriet was still a little off-color.

When he was fifteen John H. Mercer turned out his first song, a jazzy little thing he called `` Sister Susie, Strut Your Stuff ''.

The dreary camp at Valley Forge was turned into an arena of rejoicing.

Though it was a great relief when the big brains on these shows turned out to be frauds and phonies, it did irreparable damage to the ego of the editor and many another intelligent, well-informed American.

Investors breathed more freely when it was learned that this acrobatic dancer had turned magician and was only doing a best seller book to make some dough.

Then the nigger boy turned back and he was alone.

An open field was better than a building, that was for sure, so he dismounted, turned off the horse, and plunged through the grass.

Afraid at one and the same time that his work might be turned down -- which would be a blow to his pride even though no one knew he was the author -- and that the work would be accepted, and then that his violent feelings in the matter would certainly betray how deeply concerned he was in spite of himself.

Eugene was in his pajamas and dressing gown, and on his large feet he wore yellow Turkish slippers that turned up at the toes.

Next he turned to wax because there was a similarity of wax to marble in tactile quality and translucence.

The covers slid down his skinny neck so I saw his head, fuzzed like a dandelion gone to seed, but his face was turned to the wall -- there was the pale shadow of his nose on the plaster -- and I thought, Well you don't look much like a pig-drunk bully now.

The doctor shot down to the lavatory and turned the doorknob, but to no effect: the lavatory was occupied.

Jones relented, he did not order his men to apply the torch -- the drove of livestock was driven up the valley, via Beverly, and across the mountains to feed and serve the Confederate army, while Jones and his raiders turned toward Buckhannon to join forces with Imboden.

One day when he attended a war memorial ceremony in Westminster Abbey his view was obstructed by a stout man on his left, his attention turned to the irregular pattern of the rough slab flooring and someone, clasping him by the arm, whispered, `` I want a word with you, please ''.

On the second voyage, he had turned back at the frozen island of Novaya Zemlya and meekly given the crew a certificate stating that he did so of his own free will -- which was obviously not the case.

Then he called in his friend Walton and turned over the problem to him, with instructions to work out what was best -- provided it didn't pile unnecessary burdens on the President.

What was called an `` accidental meeting '' with Miss Packard in Washington turned her attention to Spelman.

In the spring when penned cattle were turned out to grass, this was spoken of as `` turn-out time '', or `` put to grass ''.

When the meal was ready, he told Jones to wash up, and going into the front room, woke the girl.

The first part of the road was steep, but it leveled off after the second bend and curled gradually into the valley.

Clyde Miller was crying softly to himself, shedding his striped suit and fumbling into the nondescript butternut pants, the worn brown shirt.

For everyone involved knew that the whole valley was a powder keg, and Mitchell Barton the fuse which could send it into explosive violence.

It was payday for Highlands, and he was packing a lot of money back into the oil fields.

By failing to do as he was told instantly -- to take out a permit or return the gun to his car -- he had played into Lord's hands.

Even the knowledge that she was losing another boy, as a mother always does when a marriage is made, did not prevent her from having the first carefree, dreamless sleep that she had known since they dropped down the canyon and into Bear Valley, way, way back there when they were crossing those other mountains.

When it was followed by a second, whining even closer, Cobb swerved sharply aside into a depression.

Whoever was out there hiding in the brushy cover was besieging the Antler house and, having spotted his approach, was determined to drive him off before he could get into the fight.

Every plane that could fly was sent into the air.

How lightly her `` eventshah-leh '' passed into the crannies where I was storing dialect material for some vaguely dreamed opus, and how the word would echo.

Johnson unwired the right hand door, whose window was, like the left one, merely loosely-taped fragments of glass, and Johnson wadded himself into a narrow seat made still more narrow by three cases of beer.

The way his red rubber lips were stretched across his pearly little teeth I thought he was only having a little joke, but, no, he wanted me to bend down from the roar of wind so he could roar something into my ear.

It was as if they could hardly wait to get into their costumes, cover their faces with masks and go adventuring.

Singing into the mirror and his interested eyes, he was pleased to note, when he stripped for his own bath, that he still had the best part of his Italian sun tan.

Her stern was down and a sharp list helped us to cut loose the lifeboat which dropped heavily into the water.

Our lifeboat was filling rapidly and despite what I had heard of the inhabitants of Eromonga, I was glad to see a long and graceful outrigger manned by three bronzed girls glide out of a lagoon into the open sea and toward our craft.

She softly let herself into the bed, and took her regular side, away from the door, where she slept better because Keith was between her and the invader.

In two minutes the body of Tilghman's former comrade, who had been killed by Blue Throat in a gambling brawl the previous night, was carried into the town's funeral parlor to be prepared for decent burial.

Within seconds the big barn was blasted into smoking splinters, with every outlaw either dead or injured inside.