"Stand to it, my hearts of gold," said the old bowman as he passed from knot to knot.
Wherever there was a knot of midnight roisterers, they quaffed her health.
She tied a knot with flashing eyes, as if it throttled a foe.
All the time that she was speaking she was working at a knot in the corner of her handkerchief.
There is one question that cuts the knot—that decides where ...