... dropped from the rail among the fishy nets and shook the Agatha with heavings. Moorshed cast aside his cigarette, looked over the stern, and fell into his subordinate's arms. I heard the guggle of engines, the rattle of a little anchor going over not a hundred yards away, a cough, and Morgan's subdued hail. ... So far as I remember, it was Laughton whom I hugged; but the men who hugged me most were Pyecroft and Moorshed, adrift ... — Traffics and Discoveries • Rudyard Kipling
... mad she couldn't hardly speak. "James!" And about all she could do was to guggle in ... — The Man Next Door • Emerson Hough
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