1 She seemed to be near him in the darkness.
2 The upper part of the hall was now completely dark.
3 It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house.
4 He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor her voice touch his ear.
5 Nearly all the stalls were closed and the greater part of the hall was in darkness.
6 In the dark of my room I imagined that I saw again the heavy grey face of the paralytic.
7 Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.
8 He knew that he would regret in the morning but at present he was glad of the rest, glad of the dark stupor that would cover up his folly.
9 Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off the light ones.
10 Their cries reached me weakened and indistinct and, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, I looked over at the dark house where she lived.
11 The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree.
12 He turned to the left when he came to the corner of Rutland Square and felt more at ease in the dark quiet street, the sombre look of which suited his mood.
13 Beyond the river he saw a goods train winding out of Kingsbridge Station, like a worm with a fiery head winding through the darkness, obstinately and laboriously.
14 Had he not been dead I would have gone into the little dark room behind the shop to find him sitting in his arm-chair by the fire, nearly smothered in his great-coat.
15 She remembered the last night of her mother's illness; she was again in the close dark room at the other side of the hall and outside she heard a melancholy air of Italy.
16 When the dome was thinly covered his face lapsed into darkness but, as he set himself to fan the fire again, his crouching shadow ascended the opposite wall and his face slowly re-emerged into light.
17 The career of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the houses where we ran the gauntlet of the rough tribes from the cottages, to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits, to the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness.
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