His chair squeaked as he leaned forward.
The bed squeaked and she jerked her head up, staring at him.
The screen door squeaked and the kitchen floor complained as someone crossed it.
And he went on writing, so that his quill spluttered and squeaked.
Sonya stood ready dressed in the middle of the room and, pressing the head of a pin till it hurt her dainty finger, was fixing on a last ribbon that squeaked as the pin went through it.
