So they shaved the hair off to get at the cut.

At the second cut he projected himself hurriedly off the chair.

He sucked again at the cut on the back of his hand.

With a groan, she brought her hand up and looked at the cut.

I raised my hand and stared down at the cut.

And this time the timber tore apart at the cut.

She looked down at the cut on her arm.

Kelly swore quietly, looking at the deep cut on his left hand.

He looked at the cut, which did not seem very deep.

He didn't even take a second glance at the cut on my forehead.