machine shop

When I pulled off my bunny suit, I visited the machine shop, where huge chunks of glass were being carved for the reticle.

The billionaire philanthropist tastes the product of a machine that processes human sewage into drinking water and electricity.

Finding the shop is a trip in itself and an introduction to a slice of history.

I suspect [Teresa] will get money sent in to her, so she can shop at the commissary.

They were the machine gun bullets coming from the ambush when my company got hit.

The rapid rise of the sharing economy is changing the way people around the world commute, shop, vacation, and borrow.

But at the instant I caught a sight of my counterfeit presentment in a shop window, and veiled my haughty crest.

Then a fat, untidy old man appeared in the doorway of a cubicle within the shop, and Edwin Clayhanger blushed.

The controlling leaders being out of gear the machine did not run smoothly: there was nothing but friction and tension.

A little black girl sat on the floor, and with her hands worked the treadle of the machine.

The sewing-machine made a resounding clatter in the room; it was of a ponderous, by-gone make.