His companions lay in a close circle like the shots from a gun that has just been discharged, piled one on top of another.

His white companion laid a hand on his arm.

Immediately the newt 112 dropped out of sight and the companions lay flat as if asleep.

When he returned, his companion lay on the ground, still and pale.

My companions lay sleeping close by, in the attitudes they had assumed the night before.

His companions brought over a box and laid it in his hands.

The water had run off the rock, and her companion lay quiet at her side.

His companions lay on their elbows and looked at him, quizzically.

Yet it rolled easily aside when her companion laid a single hand on it.

His companions lay dead in the valley below.