But she did not stir, except to turn this way and that, to bring out more colored lights from the jewels.
Sylvia had to mix bread that night, and she was obliged to go.

Rose promised that she would immediately go to bed, and kissed her again with such effusion that the older woman started back.

The soft, impetuous kiss caused her cheek to fairly tingle as she went down-stairs and about her work.

It should have been luminous from the light it made in her heart.
When Henry came home, with a guilty sense of what he was to do next day, and which he had not courage enough to reveal, he looked at his wife with relief at her changed expression.

"I declare, Sylvia, you look like yourself to-night," he said.