And then he looks at me again with rage in his eyes.
She had gone first red with rage and then white.
The little boy was getting into a real state himself, his face red with rage.
In no time he was back, his face dark with rage.
His face was red with rage as he looked us up and down.
When he turned around, his face had gone dark with rage.
You might ask what this has to do with rage.
Good Indian took a step forward, his face white with rage.
At that moment the boy's face is more filled with rage than the father's.
I was filled with hurt and rage at the time, of course.
