He was very fond of it.

The street full of them.

It’s none of my business.

There was no need of that.

He used this instead of a ticket.

Clean off the sand on account of the saw.

Again a sort of apology arose to my lips.

He loved the taste and the feel of whisky.

There were pools of water in the courtyard.

Three of the men to be hanged were negroes.

One of the ministers was sick with typhoid.

It will be the starting point of everything.

The younger of the two was a stranger to me.

“Never heard of them,” he remarked decisively.

It felt warm in the sharp chill of the morning.

It is the one country that everyone is sure of.

It was stiff and hard to lift out of the wagon.

There’s liable to be a hell of a lot of trouble.

Some of the whiskey ran down on his shirt front.

Uncle George sat in the stern of the camp rowboat.

Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.

All the shutters of the hospital were nailed shut.

“How about a chair, Will?” asked one of the guards.

I never met anyone of his class who remembered him.

“Nothing like it this time of year for what ails you.”

There were six or seven of them including two priests.

“Take Nick out of the shanty, George,” the doctor said.

The Hungarians were backing their wagon out of an alley.

It was hard to lift such a big jug up to drink out of it.

It was a body capable of enormous leverage⁠—a cruel body.

She did not know what had become of the baby or anything.

A big old wrought-iron grating from the front of a house.

When they’re not they make a lot of trouble for everybody.

There were wet dead leaves on the paving of the courtyard.

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

The last I heard of him the Swiss had him in jail near Sion.

They swung their weight against the shafts of the cant-hooks.

He was fat with only a few hairs of mustache like a Chinaman.

As he walked back along the halls he thought of Ag in his bed.

Two Austrian dead lay in the rubble in the shade of the house.

One of the white men sat on his cot with his head in his hands.

Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton.

He pushed the shells back in against the spring of the magazine.

He had casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighbourhood.

And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides.

“Well, Doc,” he said, “that’s a nice lot of timber you’ve stolen.”

Eddy hung the saw up by one of its handles in the crotch of a tree.

Have you read The Rise of the Coloured Empires by this man Goddard?

The corridor was high and narrow with tiers of cells on either side.

In spite of Hungary, he believed altogether in the world revolution.