"I'm certainly substantial enough." She looked at her full, smooth arm lying on her lap.
Cowperwood, who was feeling all the drag of her substantiality, but in addition the wonder of her temperament, which was so much richer than Aileen's, was deeply moved.

Those little blood moods that no words ever (or rarely) indicate were coming to him from her--faint zephyr-like emanations of emotions, moods, and fancies in her mind which allured him.

She was like Aileen in animality, but better, still sweeter, more delicate, much richer spiritually.

Or was he just tired of Aileen for the present, he asked himself at times.

No, no, he told himself that could not be.