She's got a mother in heaven, and that mother's got to blush for her.

My first girl's gone to harlotry in London." It was Scriptural severity of speech.

Robert glanced quick with intense commiseration at Rhoda.

He saw her hands travel upward till they fixed in at her temples with crossed fingers, making the pressure of an iron band for her head, while her lips parted, and her teeth, and cheeks, and eyeballs were all of one whiteness.

Her tragic, even, in and out breathing, where there was no fall of the breast, but the air was taken and given, as it were the square blade of a sharp-edged sword, was dreadful to see.