1 She began to soften; she felt sorry.
2 They felt like heroes in an instant.
3 Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse.
4 Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense of injury, too.
5 She felt a sharp pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once.
6 After the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little homesick once more.
7 Tom felt happy in his success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night.
8 They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the distance beyond the majestic waste of water.
9 Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his ear, and a steady lifting impulse.
10 The dog looked foolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart, too, and a craving for revenge.
11 He felt that all eyes were fastened upon him; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it even manifestly increased.
12 Then he tiptoed his way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing, and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.
13 Then a faint moan came sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit of the Night had gone by.
14 Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it.
15 Huck found a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee.
16 His mother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never tasted and knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him and wished him to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him to do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having driven her poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die.
17 As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor boys.
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