brow

Pericles seated himself near them, with deep sadness on his brow.

But his head was whirling round, the blood was gushing from his brow, his temple, his mouth.

Her brow cleared at this, and she laughed with satisfaction.

His face was livid, and great beads of perspiration stood on his brow.

He stared in astonishment at Mortimer and Allis, his brow wrinkled in anger.

Great beads of sweat stood on his brow and he wiped them away with his sleeve.

The perspiration of the literary labour dropped from his brow.

The boy started, and a cloud passed over his brow; but he said nothing.

For the first time he felt the breath of Nature, free and unconfined, upon his brow.

The Englishman seemed to muse, for his brow lowered, and he made no answer.