The gale hurled them along.
Taffy, leaning his back against it, could scarcely feel his feet touching ground.

Humility unfastened the door, looking white and anxious.

Before they could close it again, the wind swept a big dish off the dresser with a crash.
Taffy slept soundly that night.

He did not hear a knocking which sounded on the house-door, soon after eleven o'clock.

The man who knocked came from Tresedder, one of the moor farms.