What a beautiful being she was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same air, listening to her voice.

She exhaled a delicate perfume such as incorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a natural emanation, an incense vague and indescribable.

He felt that he was gazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance...

Yes, Fitzgerald was right.

To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, and all to the winds if only love remained.
Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of the groom.
"Monsieur, place your hat upon your head," smiling.