Those eyes were like windows through which light flows from within, a light of the spirit.
I glanced round to see the effect of this vision upon my companions.

It was most peculiar.

Hans had sunk to his knees; his hands were joined in the attitude of prayer and his ugly little face reminded me of that of a big fish out of water and dying from excess of air.

Robertson, startled out of his abstraction, stared at the royal-looking woman on the couch with his mouth open.
"Man," he whispered, "I've got them back although I have touched nothing for weeks, only this time they are lovely.

For yon's no human lady, I feel it in my bones." Umslopogaas stood great and grim, his hands resting on the handle of his tall axe; and he stared also, the blood pulsing against the skin that covered the hole in his head.
"Watcher-by-Night," he said to me in his deep voice, but also speaking in a whisper, "this chieftainess is not one woman, but all women.
Beneath those robes of hers I seem to see the beauty of one who has 'gone Beyond,' of the Lily who is lost to me.