Nancy started, waved her hand, and went to open the door.

Her look had wholly altered; she was bright, mirthful, overflowing with affectionate welcome.
This friend of hers, Jessica Morgan by name, had few personal attractions.

She looked overwrought and low-spirited; a very plain and slightly-made summer gown exhibited her meagre frame with undue frankness; her face might have been pretty if health had filled and coloured the flesh, but as it was she looked a ghost of girlhood, a dolorous image of frustrate sex.

In her cotton-gloved hand she carried several volumes and notebooks.
'I'm so glad you're in,' was her first utterance, between pants after hasty walking and the jerks of a nervous little laugh.

'I want to ask you something about Geometrical Progression.