hushedly

In 1996, as the mourners filed hushedly down the path from the church for the internment, and seeing Sam's grave had been dug far away in the corner against the churchyard wall, the ancient confrère Arthur Milton smiled softly and whispered: "Ah me, now dear Sam can be content down at third man forever."

Head bowed, eyes moist: paying homage to the ghosts of seasons past | Frank Keating 2010

Madame de Farrington kissed her brother at leaving him, as was natural; and under her caress his stalwart person shuddered, but not in repugnance; and the Queen went away singing hushedly.

Chivalry James Branch Cabell 1918

Madame de Farrington kissed her brother in leaving him, as was natural; and under her caress his stalwart person shuddered, but not in repugnance; and the Queen went bedward regretful of an ancient spring and singing hushedly.

Chivalry James Branch Cabell 1918

The Serenade wailed itself into silence with one last hushedly exquisite tone.

Black Caesar's Clan : a Florida Mystery Story Albert Payson Terhune 1907

And outside of it all, there was cold tea, which, when confidence was established, or they knew one of the party, she served hushedly in cups without saucers; for which she sometimes apologized, and which she took into her murderous bedroom to fill, and replenish, in its darkest and most felonious corner from homicidal-looking pots, by candle-light.

The Rising of the Court Henry Lawson 1894

She handed it back to him, saying hushedly and only 'Yes.'

The Amazing Marriage — Volume 1 George Meredith 1868

She handed it back to him, saying hushedly and only 'Yes.'

The Amazing Marriage — Complete George Meredith 1868

She handed it back to him, saying hushedly and only 'Yes.'

Complete Project Gutenberg Works of George Meredith George Meredith 1868

After acknowledging the law, Council President Katherine Schwandt hushedly responded to Soos,

unknown title 2009

How well I remember my first time leaving the brilliant summer's sunshine, the noise of a baseball game in progress, entering into a low, relatively cool and hushedly quiet place ... walking toward the softly splashing sound of water, brushing past an enormous tree fern, how exhilarating to see a sight that had made even proper Bostonians gasp with delight a century ago, one that makes me gasp now too, after half a dozen visits, over a distance of 25 years.

Michael Henry Adams: The Art of the Steal: Betraying Dr. Albert Barnes and Future Generations 2010