His hand, which was toying with a cane, was fine, and there was a forceful elegance about his whole personality.
That was the man she hated and was deceiving.

It was that head, that face, that expression which had lowered and disfigured themselves in her eyes, and were synonymous with her unhappiness.
All at once she was there in full view.

My heart stood still and contracted and drew me toward her.

She had nothing on but a short, thin chemise.

She had come back a bit tired out by the thousands of little nothings she had already done.