Wyatt had stirred his fighting blood; and everything pertinent to the discussion had come to his mind in the heat of the debate....
And now we began to hear the sound of a fiddle, scraped in a loose and erratic fashion and giving forth an occasional note of a tune.

I looked around and saw Lamborn sitting in the doorway of the hut.

Zoe was near him, laughing at his half-drunken attempts to manage the instrument.
Douglas looked up.

A quick smile shot across his face.

He glanced into my eyes in a searching manner which mystified me and sent a sudden thrill through me.