The world is a slave to its yellow glitter, and the love of woman, that perishable article of commerce, is ever at its command.

Would you obtain a kiss from a pair of ripe-red lips that seem the very abode of honeyed sweetness?
Pay for it then with a lustrous diamond; the larger the gem the longer the kiss! The more diamonds you give, the more caresses you will get.

The jeunesse doree who ruin themselves and their ancestral homes for the sake of the newest and prettiest female puppet on the stage know this well enough.

I smiled bitterly as I thought of the languid witching look my wife had given me when she said, "You do not seem to be old!" I knew the meaning of her eyes; I had not studied their liquid lights and shadows so long for nothing.

My road to revenge was a straight and perfectly smooth line--almost too smooth.