Some times it puts them to the blush and throws them into confusion; at others it blusters like a blatant liar; at others, again, it stutters and stammers like a detected thief.

There is no knowing how Truth may behave, so I shall not let it visit my relations.
I must confess, however, that I feared the possible passing by of the two decrepit cronies, when Carlotta stood at my open French window this morning.

She is really indecently beautiful.

She was wearing a deep red silk peignoir, open at the throat, unashamedly Parisian, which clung to every salient curve of her figure.

I wondered where, in the name of morality, she had procured the garment.