Alex handed the reins to a caretaker and dusted himself off as he headed for the gate.
Bordeaux picked his hat off the ground and dusted himself off.
First she dusted the dining room and polished the silverware.
She rose and dusted off her legs from where she'd knelt.
Together they dusted and vacuumed the downstairs areas.
As she dusted his parents' picture, she thought about him.
He cleaned the kitchen, dusted the entire downstairs and, as the weather remained mild, even washed the first floor windows, hoping when and if Cynthia saw them it would not be in the sun.
Toby stood and dusted himself off then hauled Ully up by his arm.
Dean dusted off a Christmas present bottle of VO with thoughts of re-igniting the glow from Ethel's gin and chasing away the gloom of the empty house but one sip and he re-capped the jug, deciding it wasn't a good idea.
Darian rose and dusted himself off, thoughts going first to his cats at the cabin and then to the possible guardsmen nearby.
In the former he developed a valuable method for the investigation of aerial waves within pipes, based on the fact that a finely divided powder - lycopodium, for example - when dusted over the interior of a tube in which is established a vibrating column of air, tends to collect in heaps at the nodes, the distance between which can thus be ascertained.
The proboscis, passing down this groove to the spur, becomes dusted with pollen; as it is drawn back, it presses up the lip-like valve of the stigma so that no pollen can enter the stigmatic chamber; but as it enters the next flower it leaves some pollen on the upper surface of the valve, and thus cross-fertilization is effected.
The usual ornament is a conventional flower pattern, pricked in from paper and dusted along the pricking.
The grapes are, after gathering, dusted over with plaster of Paris, and then crushed by treading in a shallow rectangular vessel termed the lagar.
I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and threw them out the window in disgust.
It is a mirror which no stone can crack, whose quicksilver will never wear off, whose gilding Nature continually repairs; no storms, no dust, can dim its surface ever fresh;--a mirror in which all impurity presented to it sinks, swept and dusted by the sun's hazy brush--this the light dust-cloth--which retains no breath that is breathed on it, but sends its own to float as clouds high above its surface, and be reflected in its bosom still.