61.   There were small hands for a child,

62.   His hands were to the buttons of her dress.

63.   In the West Riding there was hardly anything above a few years old, but its hands are sufficient to itself.

64.   My hand was as large as a football and throbbed with a pain that extended to the shoulder blade.

65.   My hand was lacerated, deformed, and bulbous with pus.

66.   Though his hands were free he could not rise, only thrust helplessly at the ground.

67.   His hand was on her arm.

68.   Her hands were cold and wet with rain, her eyes less well adjusted to the darkness than his.

69.   The hand was broad, black, scaled and terribly taloned.

70.   Somewhere, hands were moving chess pieces across a board.