He looked at the woman on his bed, and read the question she was trying so hard not to ask.

He looked at the man and the woman with him.

The man did not even look at the woman, but her eyes were often upon him.

Then he looked back at the woman on the bed.

He looked at the woman now, meeting her eyes for the first time.

She turned her head, looking across at the other woman in the room.

I looked at the woman who went with the voice.

He did not look at the old woman being led through the door by two men in white.

She looked at the woman who had so quickly become a friend.

I turned to look at the woman from the picture.