Then their voices died away.
A fashionable lady came in, with a rustle of silk and the smell of flowers and perfume.

She took up a lot of room because of her fragrance and elegance.

She carried her head held slightly forward and had a beautiful long face set off by an expression of great sweetness.
But I could not see her well, because she did not look at me.

She seated herself, picked up a book, and turned the pages, and the leaves cast upon her face a reflection of whiteness and thoughtfulness.
I watched her bosom rising and falling, and her motionless face, and the living book that was merged with her.

Her complexion was so brilliant that her mouth seemed almost dark.