The men washed up and waited in the front room for supper.

Jim had her dress up and was trying to do something to her.

The doctor stood up and put the shotgun in the corner behind the dresser.

“It belongs to White and McNally,” he said, standing up and brushing off his trousers knees.

His father picked the baby up and slapped it to make it breathe and handed it to the old woman.

She worked out from under him and sat up and straightened her skirt and coat and tried to do something with her hair.