Her knee was drawn up slightly in her hands, her hat was off, her rich brown hair fell loosely about her head, framing it, her dark eyes glowed under her bent brows.

The lion's cub crawled up on the divan, and thrust its nose under an arm.

Its head clung to her waist.

Who was she?
thought Gaston.

Delilah, Cleopatra--who?
She was lost in thought.