As he approached, she scanned his face curiously.

She became critical, anxiously but ineffectively.

There was not a feature in his face with which a physiognomist could have found fault.
"Dear young lady," he said, bowing low, "I come to you very humbly, for I am afraid that I am a deceiver.

I shall rob you of your pleasure, I fear.

I have put my name down for four dances, and, alas! I do not dance." She made room for him by her side.
"And I," she said, "am weary of dancing.