Nick looked straight ahead brilliantly.

She looked very pale.

He looked at Marjorie.

He looked at her back.

Nick looked at her fish.

He looked on at her back.

Liz looked down at her book.

His father looked down at him.

Uncle George looked at his arm.

She looked at us all radiantly.

Dick Boulton looked at the doctor.

Her host looked at her incredulously.

Nick turned his head and looked down at Rinaldi.

Eddy laughed but Billy Tabeshaw looked very serious.

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

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

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

Jim pulled the burlap sacks off the deer and Liz looked at them.

She walked over to the edge of the dock and looked down to the water.

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

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

He mounted on the edge of the lower bunk with the lamp in one hand and looked in.

He looked across the bay to the hills that were beginning to sharpen against the sky.

I looked back at my cousin, who began to ask me questions in her low, thrilling voice.

He had so much equipment on and looked awfully surprised and fell down into the garden.

This isn’t just an epigram⁠—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.

Dick kneeled down in the sand and looked at the mark of the scaler’s hammer in the wood at the end of the log.

Her grey sun-strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, discontented face.

In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains.

He tried five times and the crowd was quiet because it was a good bull and it looked like him or the bull and then he finally made it.

She didn’t want to go to bed yet because she knew Jim would be coming out and she wanted to see him as he went out so she could take the way he looked up to bed with her.

When she looked at them they didn’t seem to be moving at all but if she went in and dried some more dishes and then came out again they would be out of sight beyond the point.

To her son these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled the expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward, for years and years it seemed, was, after a night’s darkness and a day’s sail, within touch.