"Leave me, Whitesides," said she.
"I wish to be quite alone with him throughout." Thus Craig, entering the great, dim drawing-room, with its panel paintings and its lofty, beautifully-frescoed ceiling, found himself alone with her.

She was throned upon a large, antique gold chair, ebony scepter in one hand, the other hand white and young-looking and in fine relief against the black silk of her skirt; she bent upon him a keen, gracious look.

Her hazel eyes were bright as a bird's; they had the advantage over a bird's that they saw--saw everything in addition to seeming to see.
Looking at him she saw a figure whose surfaces were, indeed, not extraordinarily impressive.

Craig's frame was good; that was apparent despite his clothes.

He had powerful shoulders, not narrow, yet neither were they of the broad kind that suggest power to the inexpert and weakness and a tendency to lung trouble to the expert.