The sparkling conversation going on around the- room seemed to sort of run down.

Her conversation seemed to have developed too many threads, and all at once.

Inside her room the conversation seemed to have turned toward last summer's whitewater race.

But for the moment, anyway, conversation seems to be enough.

The brief conversation seemed to have been enough for it.

Every other conversation seemed to start with: "When will you get that 1,000th victory?"

At the moment, conversation of any kind seemed like work.

They stood looking at each other, and the conversation seemed to have burned itself out in two lines.

Now that conversation seemed as if it had taken place in another lifetime.

The conversation seemed to be taking place on several levels at once, different meanings to everything.