He looked full at me; but I was prepared, and my face told nothing.

His white face tells me that he doesn't know either.

Her face told me everything I didn't need to know.

Even from a distance, my face must have told her all she needed to know.

No matter how together I felt, my face told a different story.

He didn't need to continue; his face told the rest of the story.

From what his face told her, nothing had been easy for this one, ever.

When he returned his face told me the news was not good.

Her face told us that she was exactly the kind of woman we wanted.

But that, her face told him, was going way too far.