A hinge creaked, but it was no louder than the rustle of silk against silk.
Because there was nothing else to do, Grant unscrewed his helmet and let it fall back on its hinge.
If any part of the frame cracked, if the hinge creaked, I was a lost man!
The other hinge still held, but it was bending with each mighty blow.
The prison was still as the grave; not a step could I ...