She flattened against the wall, for Bobby stood there, inside the kitchen, with a huge butcher knife in his hand.

By the time I walked back to the cottage, Bobby was standing in the open front door.

Bobby stood as Bart's foster father when their parents died.

Bobby stood beside me, looking out into the darkness.

Bobby stood looking at the poster for a fair length of time.

Bobby stood where he was, his arms still held out to hug.

If Bobby couldn't stand to live without his art, okay.

Bobby had been the one to voice the oath, and now stood there, mouth open, eyes wide.

Bobby couldn't stand him either and he knew I made a good audience.

Bobby was standing by the bar when the big guy walked out of Jammer's office.