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She held the long lance ready to hand to him.
He was almost to the point of my lance now.
Then George took his lance and went out on watch.
He left the lance in his father's body and turned to the north.
The lance point was in his back, just over the heart.
We've sort of gone beyond the point where what Lance points to is a problem.
"In many of them they would pay high to have my head on a lance."
The old man had three children, but Lance was the only one he seemed to care about.
In them she saw her lance had found its mark.
The Lance has a range of just under 300 miles.
That must be where he had been hit by the lance.
That seemed to center on the head of the lance.
It could do nothing but try to turn the Staff with its lance.
His father's last words to Lance were that everything would be all right.
We talked about the future and what Lance could do.
Lance started to call out again, but then he heard it, too.
"Good, but I still think you should have brought the lance."
Nor could he open the way these days, without the Lance.
They had one child in 1943, a son named Lance.
"Anybody else you can think of who might want to get to Lance?"
Then the lance pulled clear and the man moved on.
At that moment a lance, coming from the street down below, hit him in the back.
Talking it over with Lance, they had decided he should just drive out one work day.
Lance Deal had a good claim for best performance of the meet.
"Did you get the opportunity to talk to any of them, Lance?"