Jager's new, bristly beard itched all the time.

The minutes dragged; the garments and the false beard itched intolerably.

His tongue grew stiff with remembered loneliness, and his beard itched irritably, like a reminder of peril.

His beard itched ferociously, he hadn't bathed in days, and worst of all, he felt he was beginning to understand Sister Seventh.

His incipient beard itched, and he wished he had a razor, but that luxury had been lost along the way as well.

The beard itched but it was a small price to pay for introducing peace in the area.

He rubbed his hand over his face, where a growing beard and tiny cuts itched abominably.

His beard itched.

Still, a beard itches most infernally; I'm not sure I could bear it, even for the sake of being picturesque.

Paul sighed deeply; he was tired, his beard itched and he knew he smelled like a cage of monkeys in a zoo.