The sweat glistened on their bodies, but their eyes gleamed fanatically.
Great beads of sweat stood on his brow and he wiped them away with his sleeve.
Then I saw a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, and I knew that he was beaten.
It was terrible work, like earning a living with the sweat of the brow.
The sweat oozed from his shiny forehead as he backed cautiously away.