The orange lamps affixed to the high stone wall that ran along one side of the square were also glowing now.

She found it and switched off the orange lamp.

Pushing his way past people who seemed oblivious of his presence, staggering out into a street that was brightly lit with orange lamps.

A small gray car of indeterminate make stands alone beneath an orange lamp.

An orange glow from the sodium lamps outside the window immediately lined the entire room with tiger stripes.

After what seemed an interminable period a pair of orange lamps gleamed in the distance, sped toward him.

It made the tower slick beneath the orange lamps we had festooned about it.

There was a black feel to the air in spite of the orange lamps.

He was utter shadow as he moved before the orange glaring lamp.

After dark, the crooked streets empty and we stroll alone down 500-year-old lanes where orange lamps throw light across the orange brick.