Most men were her slaves from the moment she smiled upon them.

This one she fancied seemed a little bored by her presence.

He did not even seem to be thinking about her.

He was watching steadily and with somewhat bent eyebrows Cecil de la Borne and Forrest.

Something struck her as she looked from one to the other.
"I read once," she remarked, "that people who live in a very small village for generation after generation grow to look like one another.
In a certain way I cannot conceive two men more unlike, and yet at that moment there was something in your face which reminded me of Mr.De la Borne." He looked down at her with a quick frown.