His portraits are so bizarre." She went off into a description of his pretentious but insignificant art.
Cowperwood marveled, not at Lane Cross's art nor his shawls, but at this world in which Stephanie moved.

He could not quite make her out.
He had never been able to make her explain satisfactorily that first single relationship with Gardner Knowles, which she declared had ended so abruptly.

Since then he had doubted, as was his nature; but this girl was so sweet, childish, irreconcilable with herself, like a wandering breath of air, or a pale-colored flower, that he scarcely knew what to think.

The artistically inclined are not prone to quarrel with an enticing sheaf of flowers.

She was heavenly to him, coming in, as she did at times when he was alone, with bland eyes and yielding herself in a kind of summery ecstasy.