Listening

Examples

• Miss Havisham sat listening (or it seemed so, for I could not see her face), but still made no answer. Charles Dickens. Great Expectations.
• He dreaded to hear that something had been said to Mary--he felt as if he were listening to a threat rather than a warning. George Eliot. Middlemarch.
• But as to listening to what one lawyer says without asking another--I wonder at a man o' your cleverness, Mr. Dill. George Eliot. Middlemarch.
• She struck a light and stood startled, listening. Edith Wharton. The House of Mirth.
• Before that time we sit listening to a tale, a marvellous fiction, delightful sometimes, and sad sometimes, almost always unreal. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• He could see that the wife of Pablo had turned now from the fire and was listening. Hemingway, Ernest. For Whom The Bell Tolls.
• Mr. Moore began to tell us about the Continent, the war, and Bonaparte--subjects we were both fond of listening to. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• Then I see still less reason for listening to them. Edith Wharton. The Age of Innocence.
• I left them still listening to him when I withdrew to attend to my new duties. Charles Dickens. Bleak House.
• My father slept in the cabin; and I lay on the deck, looking at the stars, and listening to the dashing of the waves. Mary Shelley. Frankenstein_Or_The Modern Prometheus.
• Twelve o'clock; well _now_ we'll see, said she, turning, and opening the door into the passage-way, and standing as if listening. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• Excuse me, but I think you must have been nearly as mad as he, to sit listening to him. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• I am not listening, Maurice. Fergus Hume. The Island of Fantasy.
• The nightingale's song was then the only voice of the hour: in listening to it, I again wept. Charlotte Bronte. Jane Eyre.
• No third person listening could have thoroughly understood the impetuosity of Will's repulse or the bitterness of his words. George Eliot. Middlemarch.
• She vented petulant words every now and then, but there were sighs between her words, and sudden listenings between her sighs. Thomas Hardy. The Return of the Native.

Checked by Kenneth