Nor do I
stagger. In short, I am a normal, average man; and I drink in the normal, average way, as drinking goes.
Again Clayton essayed to
stagger on to meet his fate, but once more he pitched headlong to the boat's bottom, nor, try as he would, could he again rise.
This sensation lasts only a second, for even while you
stagger something seems to turn over in your head, bringing uppermost the mental exclamation, full of astonishment and dismay, "By Jove!
I felt him
stagger with the shock, though he uttered no cry; I tried to check my speed, but the sword dropped from his right hand, the rein fell loose from the left, and sinking backward from the saddle he fell to the earth; the other riders swept past us, and by the force of their charge I was driven from the spot.
Lightning- like blows they were, four of them, right and left; and heavy they were, for Ponta winced away from them and
staggered back, half dropping his arms, his shoulders drooping forward and in, as though he were about to double in at the waist and collapse.
The black-faced man scrambled up and
staggered forward, going and leaning over the bulwark by the main shrouds, where he remained, panting and glaring over his shoulder at the dogs.
The King stood forth like a true man, and received a blow which
staggered him.
He felt the depressing influence of the horrible place setting down upon him; but he
staggered to his feet, shaking himself like a great lion, for was he not still Tarzan, mighty Tarzan of the Apes?
de Villefort
staggered and buried his head in the bed.
Beneath the blow of a fragment of the roof, Tarzan
staggered back against the door to the treasure room, his weight pushed it open and his body rolled inward upon the floor.
But at that moment Trent leaped up, dashed his unloaded revolver full in the man's face and, while he
staggered with the shock, a soldier from behind shot him through the heart.
It was nearly two hours before day-break; that time which in the autumn of the year, may be truly called the dead of night; when the streets are silent and deserted; when even sounds appear to slumber, and profligacy and riot have
staggered home to dream; it was at this still and silent hour, that Fagin sat watching in his old lair, with face so distorted and pale, and eyes so red and blood-shot, that he looked less like a man, than like some hideous phantom, moist from the grave, and worried by an evil spirit.