I gazed frankly at Dona Rita's profile, irregular, animated, and fascinating in an undefinable way, at her well-shaped head with the hair twisted high up and apparently held in its place by a gold arrow with a jewelled shaft.

We couldn't hear what she said, but the movement of her lips and the play of her features were full of charm, full of interest, expressing both audacity and gentleness.

She spoke with fire without raising her voice.

The man listened round-shouldered, but seeming much too stupid to understand.

I could see now and then that he was speaking, but he was inaudible.