Close on our right a twig snapped and I began to gather myself for the spring.
Not a sound disturbed the oppressive quiet, not the quiver of a twig.
Was it his imagination, or did a branch snap, a twig rustle down the road?
The painter would not depict every twig, as would the naturalist.
At first they could not break it, but when they took it twig by twig they broke it easily.