It was not quite dark.

The two boats started off in the dark.

Uncle George was smoking a cigar in the dark.

Jim was short and dark with big mustaches and big hands.

The whole battery was drunk going along the road in the dark.

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

The water was lapping in the piles and the point was dark across the bay.

The men had moved off up the road to sit in the dark and smoke out of range of the noise she made.

Sometimes in the dark we heard the troops marching under the window and guns going past pulled by motor-tractors.

In the dark it was like summer lightning, but the nights were cool and there was not the feeling of a storm coming.

We went along the road all night in the dark and the adjutant kept riding up alongside my kitchen and saying, “You must put it out.”

They were trolling along the edge of the channel-bank where the bottom dropped off suddenly from sandy shallows to twelve feet of dark water.