1 I did hear something squealing in the garden.
2 He planned another garden and began a new building for the domestic serfs.
3 She sat by the window listening to his voice which reached her from the garden.
4 Someone spoke her name in a soft and tender voice from the garden and kissed her head.
5 If you noticed some disorder in the garden," said Alpatych, "it was impossible to prevent it.
6 Grass had already begun to grow on the garden paths, and horses and calves were straying in the English park.
7 She returned to the garden and sat down on the grass at the foot of the slope by the pond, where no one could see her.
8 She ran out sobbing into the garden and as far as the pond, along the avenues of young lime trees Prince Andrew had planted.
9 An old peasant whom Prince Andrew in his childhood had often seen at the gate was sitting on a green garden seat, plaiting a bast shoe.
10 Several limes in the old garden had been cut down and a piebald mare and her foal were wandering in front of the house among the rosebushes.
11 Having run through different yards and side streets, Pierre got back with his little burden to the Gruzinski garden at the corner of the Povarskoy.
12 Princess Mary saw him walk out of the house in his uniform wearing all his orders and go down the garden to review his armed peasants and domestic serfs.
13 Having gone round the corner of the hothouse to the ornamental garden, he saw that the carved garden fence was broken and branches of the plum trees had been torn off with the fruit.
14 And a minute or two later the Frenchman, a black-eyed fellow with a spot on his cheek, in shirt sleeves, really did jump out of a window on the ground floor, and clapping Pierre on the shoulder ran with him into the garden.
15 She vividly recalled the moment when he had his first stroke and was being dragged along by his armpits through the garden at Bald Hills, muttering something with his helpless tongue, twitching his gray eyebrows and looking uneasily and timidly at her.
16 It was now, however, impossible to get back the way he had come; the maid, Aniska, was no longer there, and Pierre with a feeling of pity and disgust pressed the wet, painfully sobbing child to himself as tenderly as he could and ran with her through the garden seeking another way out.
17 The old man was still sitting in the ornamental garden, like a fly impassive on the face of a loved one who is dead, tapping the last on which he was making the bast shoe, and two little girls, running out from the hot house carrying in their skirts plums they had plucked from the trees there, came upon Prince Andrew.
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