At the Bush Bar one night in October, Americans sat on white plastic chairs around a table, as the girls swarmed around.

For once, the little girl did not swarm on him.

Small boys and girls swarmed over them unloading their luggage.

Was that why the girls swarmed around him?

The girls swarmed onto the deck, fluttering among the guests with coy smiles and giggling each time a sated patrician finger tried to poke them.

Boys and girls swarm a floor roughly half the size of a regulation court.

The girls from the office had swarmed about him like bees around a honey jar, jockeying for position, anxious to be noticed.

The girls swarmed eagerly around their recovered friend, for Rose had been a favorite before she went away and found her throne waiting for her now.

The girls were swarming around him now, stirring the hairs on his skin.

The other girls swarm around the shower and taunt her.