The
cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away.
Cold sweat broke out upon me as I realized that soon my turn would come.
He tried to drink, and revel, and swear away the memory; but often, in the deep night, whose solemn stillness arraigns the bad soul in forced communion with herself, he had seen that pale mother rising by his bedside, and felt the soft twining of that hair around his fingers, till the
cold sweat would roll down his face, and he would spring from his bed in horror.
My breath was coming in quick, short gasps,
cold sweat stood out from every pore of my body, and the ancient experiment of pinching revealed the fact that I was anything other than a wraith.
Miss Dearborn commonly went home with a headache, and never left her bed during the rest of the afternoon or evening; and the casual female parent who attended the exercises sat on a front bench with beads of
cold sweat on her forehead, listening to the all-too-familiar halts and stammers.
Great beads of
cold sweat stood upon his livid brow.
Cold sweat exuded from his every pore as La raised the cruel, sacrificial knife above him.
Our horror was at its height, circulation had stopped, all nervous influence was annihilated, and we were covered with
cold sweat, like a sweat of agony!
Already the
cold sweat started on my brow, already I glanced back over my shoulder at the closed door, when, to my unspeakable relief, my eye, wandering mildly in the direction of the stove, rested upon a second figure, seated in a large fauteuil beside it.
A mist came before his eyes; the
cold sweat stood upon his ashy face; his limbs failed him; and he sank upon his knees.
Rokoff stood as though petrified, his eyes protruding from their sockets, his mouth agape, and the
cold sweat of terror clammy upon his brow.
I found myself in a
cold sweat. I had to think rapidly what to do.