They were both disgusted.

Both legs stuck out awkwardly.

Uncle George gave both the Indians cigars.

Drevitts got frightened when he found they were both dead.

It was much lighter on the logging road as the timber was cut away on both sides.

They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house.

They are not perfect ovals⁠—like the egg in the Columbus story, they are both crushed flat at the contact end⁠—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetual wonder to the gulls that fly overhead.