Look at him now.

She smiled at him.

He looked at Marjorie.

He looked at her back.

Nick didn’t look at it.

The bull looked at him.

He looked at the names.

I waved my hand at him.

Nick looked at her fish.

I enjoyed looking at her.

He looked on at her back.

Scared sick looking at it.

She looked at me absently.

More dogs rushed out at them.

His father looked down at him.

I was just angry at something.

She looked at us all radiantly.

Uncle George looked at his arm.

You can get that at six o’clock.

Afterwards I saw him at the café.

He was afraid to look at Marjorie.

Dick Boulton looked at the doctor.

I love to see you at my table, Nick.

Her host looked at her incredulously.

The little man sat looking at Manuel.

Ought to have a look at the proud father.

“Don’t go off at half cock, Doc,” Dick said.

Nick turned his head and looked down at Rinaldi.

The bull looking at him straight in front, hating.

The American wife stood at the window looking out.

There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel.

At the lake shore there was another rowboat drawn up.

Nick looked on at the moon, coming up over the hills.

Nick, rowing, looked at the white stone in the green trees.

Inside at the bottom was the big trout, alive in the water.

A little man sat behind a desk at the far side of the room.

They were swearing at him and flopping the cape in his face.

We were both getting at the same thing from different angles.

I looked at Miss Baker, wondering what it was she “got done.”

We were at the top of the last range above Spezia and the sea.

Uncle George was standing against the wall, looking at his arm.

“We’re playing indoor over at school this afternoon,” she said.

They could both see the two steel rods at an angle over the dark water.

The doctor chewed the beard on his lower lip and looked at Dick Boulton.

It’s a good fast drop with a Christy at the bottom on account of a fence.

Eddy and Billy Tabeshaw leaned on their cant-hooks and looked at the doctor.

We sat down at a table under a big tree and the king ordered whisky and soda.

In his last year at Princeton he read too much and took to wearing spectacles.

The picador kicked in his spurs, leaned forward and shook his lance at the bull.

He lived upstairs above the blacksmith shop and took his meals at A. J. Smith’s.