1 He was tall and gaunt and wore a pointed beard of iron gray, and his clothes hung on his spare figure as though blown there by a hurricane.
2 His shoulders were sagging and his head bowed until his gray beard spread out fanlike on his chest.
3 "I had a full beard to show you girls," said Ashley, ruefully rubbing his face where half-healed razor nicks still showed.
4 It was a beautiful beard and if I do say it myself, neither Jeb Stuart nor Nathan Bedford Forrest had a handsomer one.
5 They got me down and shaved me, and it's a wonder my head didn't come off along with the beard.
6 "I shall talk frankly to you, Miss Scarlett," he began, jerking at his gray beard.
7 He said frankly that he preferred the Captain's swearing and bullying to his daughter-in-law's coddling, and her incessant demands that he give up chewing tobacco and launder his beard every day.
8 His shirt and trousers were as red as a butcher's and even the end of his iron-gray beard was matted with blood.
9 One, a tall spare man with a black beard that hung to his belt, silently handed his own rifle and that of the boy to the other.
10 He sat slouched in the saddle, a thick, rough-looking man with an unkempt black beard straggling over his unbuttoned blue jacket.
11 "Well, I," began Frank and again clawed nervously at his beard.
12 His ginger-colored beard was scantier than ever, streaked with tobacco juice and as ragged as if he clawed at it incessantly.
13 This was not the meek Frank she knew, the nervous beard clawer who she had learned could be bullied with such ease.
14 Frank passed a tired hand over his wet beard.
15 He was a tall, thin old man with a bald head, which shone pinkishly dirty, and a grizzled beard so long he could tuck it in his belt.