The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard.
I would not let the smallest child stroke his father's beard roughly.
Look you, Sir; a beard is something in itself; a beard is half the doctor.
In his father's face this could not be detected, on account of the beard.
Remembering her map Kingozi's lips compressed under his beard.
But then, if people grew savage, they might pull my beard out by the roots.
His hair and beard hung long and matted over his broad shoulders.
His lips were working so that his beard bristled about his mouth.
He had a beard, and on his shoulder a poncho, but that was all I knew.
His beard and hair were white, and his face bore traces of suffering.