1 He slipped an arm through hers, as Eady had done, and fancied it was faintly pressed against her side, but neither of them moved.
2 He longed to stoop his cheek and rub it against her scarf.
3 He forgot what else he had meant to say and pressed her against him so closely that he seemed to feel her warmth in his veins.
4 Half-way up the slope Mattie stumbled against some unseen obstruction and clutched his sleeve to steady herself.
5 Ethan felt confusedly that there were many things he ought to think about, but through his tingling veins and tired brain only one sensation throbbed: the warmth of Mattie's shoulder against his.
6 Hale sat with his feet up on the stove, his back propped against a battered desk strewn with papers: the place, like the man, was warm, genial and untidy.
7 She stood just as Zeena had stood, a lifted lamp in her hand, against the black background of the kitchen.
8 When he came back Mattie had set the teapot on the table and the cat was rubbing itself persuasively against her ankles.
9 As her young brown head detached itself against the patch-work cushion that habitually framed his wife's gaunt countenance, Ethan had a momentary shock.
10 At first its weak flame made no impression on the shadows; then Zeena's face stood grimly out against the uncurtained pane, which had turned from grey to black.
11 For a moment such a flame of hate rose in him that it ran down his arm and clenched his fist against her.
12 She seemed to melt against him in her terror, and he caught her in his arms, held her fast there, felt her lashes beat his cheek like netted butterflies.
13 His head reeled and he had to support himself against the table.
14 The cat rubbed itself ingratiatingly against her, and she said "Good Pussy," stooped to stroke it and gave it a scrap of meat from her plate.
15 All the healthy instincts of self-defence rose up in him against such waste.