It was just beginning to be daylight when they walked along the logging road back toward the lake.

They shot the six cabinet ministers at half-past six in the morning against the wall of a hospital.

One hot evening in Milan they carried him up onto the roof and he could look out over the top of the town.

They sunk the ends of their cant-hooks into one of the logs and swung against it to loosen it in the sand.

Then they went into the woods and followed a trail that led to the logging road that ran back into the hills.

When they operated on him she prepared him for the operating table; and they had a joke about friend or enema.

While they were strapping his legs together two guards held him up and the two priests were whispering to him.

Jim had his arm around her and every little way they stopped and pressed against each other and Jim kissed her.

When they came toward him with the cap to go over his head Sam Cardinella lost control of his sphincter muscles.

Nick sat against the wall of the church where they had dragged him to be clear of machine gun fire in the street.

“That’s all right maybe this time,” said Drevitts, “but how did you know they were wops when you bumped them off?”

When they had to say goodbye, in the station at Milan, they kissed goodbye, but were not finished with the quarrel.

They wanted to get married, but there was not enough time for the banns, and neither of them had birth certificates.

They were here, and they accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained.

They knew that presently dinner would be over and a little later the evening too would be over and casually put away.

They felt as though they were married, but they wanted everyone to know about it, and to make it so they could not lose it.

I heard the drums coming down the street and then the fifes and the pipes and then they came around the corner, all dancing.

There was no moon and they walked ankle deep in the sandy road through the trees down to the dock and the warehouse on the bay.

They walked up from the beach through a meadow that was soaking wet with dew, following the young Indian who carried a lantern.

He sat down in the sand and puked and they held a cape over him while the crowd hollered and threw things down into the bull ring.

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.

All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep school for me, and finally said, “Why⁠—ye-es,” with very grave, hesitant faces.

They had spent a year in France for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together.

Spider Kelly taught all his young gentlemen to box like featherweights, no matter whether they weighed one hundred and five or two hundred and five pounds.

They were all about the hospital, and how much she loved him and how it was impossible to get along without him and how terrible it was missing him at night.

One day she found that she liked it the way the hair was black on his arms and how white they were above the tanned line when he washed up in the washbasin outside the house.

When they stopped the music for the crouch he hunched down in the street with them all and when they started it again he jumped up and went dancing down the street with them.

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.

The night before they were to come back she didn’t sleep at all, that is she didn’t think she slept because it was all mixed up in a dream about not sleeping and really not sleeping.

He drew out the sword from the folds of the muleta and sighted with the same movement and called to the bull, Toro! Toro! and the bull charged and Villalta charged and just for a moment they became one.

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.

I bought a dozen volumes on banking and credit and investment securities, and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew.

They had drifted up onto the beach and if nothing were done about them sooner or later the crew of the Magic would come along the shore in a rowboat, spot the logs, drive an iron spike with a ring on it into the end of each one and then tow them out into the lake to make a new boom.

When they all stepped back on the scaffolding back of the drop, which was very heavy, built of oak and steel and swung on ball bearings, Sam Cardinella was left sitting there strapped tight with the rope around his neck, the younger of the two priests kneeling beside the chair holding up a little crucifix.

Most of the confidences were unsought⁠—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions.