Her skin showed white as ivory; her nose and mouth and chin, heavy for a woman, told of a dangerous energy when aroused.

The eyebrows, too, had a lowering falcon trick that touched the face with fierceness.

The forehead gave proof of brains, and yet the San Reve was one more apt to act than think, particularly if she felt herself aggrieved.

If you must pry into a matter so delicate, the San Reve was twenty-eight; standing straight as a spear, with small hands and feet, she displayed that ripeness of outline which sculptors give their Phrynes.
"Storri," said the San Reve, with a chill bluntness that promised the disagreeable while it lost no time, "why do you visit that house--the Harley house ?" Storri was in an easy-chair, puffing a cigar as though at home.

The San Reve, half lying, half sitting, reclined upon a sofa.