He seemed to smile out of a toothless mouth.

The room coming up on his left was open, the door gaping like a toothless mouth onto the dark corridor.

They had large, toothless mouths that gaped open when at rest.

One side of the toothless mouth rose in a lopsided smile as he turned his head to look at me.

Some of them opened toothless mouths to cackle at him.

The old man let a few crumbs of laughter fall from his toothless mouth.

The toothless mouth seemed hardly to move, but words came from it now, low and monotone.

The toothless mouth became, for a moment, firm and set.

The lips worked in the toothless mouth and the whispering voice spoke again.

When one of us fell, the great toothless mouth closed over the body, dragged the person to his feet.