The steady _throb -- throb -- throb_ of the propeller was again shaking the yacht as she took up her journey.
As I stood waiting and listening for the enemy's order to attack, I could feel my heart go _throb, throb, throb, throb_, so hard that I seemed to be hearing it at the same time making a dull echo in my brain.
At last one word escaped from his lips, and in an instant -- _throb, throb, throb, throb_ -- there was a heavy beating on his ribs, a joyous whining sound greeted his ears, and a cold nose and wet tongue were playing about his face.
I'll be there steady ready to take up the fight of mother and daughter divided unsatisfied forever antagonistic cry sorrow let your ovary throb from the pain of my absence
And between the last â€˜obâ€™ in the word throb and the words now written, I have passed a delicious period of perhaps an hour, perhaps a minute, I know not how long, thinking of that holy first love and of her who inspired it.