She turned the knob, but the door didn't open.
He turned the knob and pushed on the door.
She turned the porcelain knob and pushed the door open.
When she'd finished, she twisted the knob and pulled.
A moment's hesitation, a quick hand on the door knob, and Edith Shipton disappeared into the bedroom of her long ago lover.
After turning the knob once to confirm it was locked, he paused, somewhat unsteadily, and glanced across the motel parking lot.
At the door he paused with his hand on the knob, his tone once again authoritative.
Gradually the water became clear and she twisted the knob until the water flow stopped.
The statocysts present in general the structure of either a knob or a closed vesicle, composed of (I) indifferent supporting epithelium; (2) sensory, so-called auditory epithelium of slender cells, each.
I) is a single knob, being formed almost wholly by the basi-occipital, while the lateral occipitals (often perversely called exoccipitals) take but little share in it.
The latter articulate with the tuberculum of the corresponding rib, while the capitulum articulates by a knob on the side of the anterior end of the centrum.
The distal end of the humerus ends in a trochlea, with a larger knob for the ulna and a smaller oval knob for the radius.
With a prodigious noise the door flew open, and the knob slamming against the wall, sent the plaster to the ceiling; and there, good heavens! there sat Queequeg, altogether cool and self-collected; right in the middle of the room; squatting on his hams, and holding Yojo on top of his head.
Each checker has a hole in the middle in which a brass knob can be placed to distinguish the king from the commons.
Making another hole directly over it with an ice chisel which I had, and cutting down the longest birch which I could find in the neighborhood with my knife, I made a slip-noose, which I attached to its end, and, letting it down carefully, passed it over the knob of the handle, and drew it by a line along the birch, and so pulled the axe out again.
One night when the old countess, in nightcap and dressing jacket, without her false curls, and with her poor little knob of hair showing under her white cotton cap, knelt sighing and groaning on a rug and bowing to the ground in prayer, her door creaked and Natasha, also in a dressing jacket with slippers on her bare feet and her hair in curlpapers, ran in.
He was a stout, dark, red- faced peasant in the forties, with thick lips, a broad knob of a nose, similar knobs over his black frowning brows, and a round belly.