And the steps do not grow easier with success.

Only when her step grew labored with fatigue would she sit down again.

And every step he took grew more leaden, for the moment was here.

A few more steps and the picture grew clear: the bricks to one side, the pile of red dust at his feet.

The path rose steadily, and each step grew a little shorter.

Each step grew out of the one preceding it.

The steps grew slightly louder, meaning he was headed forward.

The steps grow louder, then stop, but the doorway remains empty.

The steps grew slippery, but it was worth it to get their arms.

She peered down and immediately saw why the steps were growing more visible.