Not any of it.

Of course you know.

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.

Marjorie unpacked the basket of supper.

Again a sort of apology arose to my lips.

Clean off the sand on account of the saw.

All the piles of lumber were carried away.

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.

The younger of the two was a stranger to me.

It will be the starting point of everything.

“Never heard of them,” he remarked decisively.

It is the one country that everyone is sure of.

It felt warm in the sharp chill of the morning.

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.

All the shutters of the hospital were nailed shut.

Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.

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

I never met anyone of his class who remembered him.

He hooked each of the skinned perch through the tail.

“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.

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

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

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

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

I feel as though everything was gone to hell inside of me.

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

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

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.

Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton.

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

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

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