Leaf (through)

Usage examples of riffle.

As Martinez touched his lips with his glass, the front door boomed open and a gust of wind riffled papers on the side table.

Buck noticed that while the attention refocused on Viv Ivins, Leon went to work on his backside, riffling his fingers over the area.

Halcyon was slumped unconscious in one chair, Roddle sat in another, and the Doctor had the hot seat, riffling through pages in a bubblescreen.

Pulling open a bureau drawer, I riffled through folded underwear and tweezed out a pink panty.

Since Rolland had appropriated an antique French for a historical setting more than halfway back from modern times to medieval, and since Nabokov would have to riffle through Dahl for equally venerable Russian equivalents, there could have been no more apt exercise for someone taking the Modern and Medieval tripos in those two languages.

And as the somber clouds gathering from the east extended farther out over the peaks, threatening to cut off the sun, a tentative wind swept down the Caballo Peak slope, riffled across the lake, and a few seconds later streaked on by the agent.

Mo took them and riffled through them like a cardsharp, a glint of commerce in his eye.

He had dashed outside, thrown himself down on the curb and riffled through the magazine till he found the second installment of the cliffhanging serial.

It tumbled as it fell, its dustjacket blowing loose and away, its pages riffling in the still air.

She was sitting in a field of clover in the shade of a shaggy bark tree, chestnut mare nibbling on a handful of gumdrops scattered among the dandelions, mild wind riffling the sunny grass, clear sky soft as felt.

For a time the contest was in doubt, and then Kathy was struggling upright in the shallows, just above where the riffles started.

Just an interesting chip bobbing in the riffles, or a drifting piece of wood such as a log with a viable knot.

In twenty-four hours he would be in a farmhouse which smelt of paraffin and beeswax and good cooking, looking out on a green valley with a shallow brown stream tumbling in riffles and drowsing in pools under banks of yellow bent.

Pulling open a bureau drawer, I riffled through folded underwear and tweezed out a pink panty.

She would not respond to him, not to the way the breeze riffled his sleek raven hair, not to the way his damnably compelling eyes glowed as they caressed her face, not to that cocksure tilt of his head, nor that mischievous-little boy grin dimpling his cheeks.