They all have it; they all lose it.

Now she is dull and thick as bacon; now transparent as a hanging glass.

The fixed faces are the dull ones.

Here comes Lady Venice displayed like a monument for admiration, but carved in alabaster, to be set on the mantelpiece and never dusted.

A dapper brunette complete from head to foot serves only as an illustration to lie upon the drawing-room table.
The women in the streets have the faces of playing cards; the outlines accurately filled in with pink or yellow, and the line drawn tightly round them.