She addressed his white shirt front, for to look at him was beyond her.

I reached up and grabbed him by the shirt front.

Below that face was a shirt front stained with blood.

He cried out and fell back, a spot of blood on his shirt front.

His shirt front, crimson with blood, showed that he had been shot through the heart.

A small dark spot appeared on his white shirt front.

A moment later he was being hauled up the stairs by his shirt front.

She didn't want to look at him but fixed her eyes on his shirt front.

A red line now decorated his shirt front where my cut had taken him.

It was true, for there hung the ends down my shirt front.