So was her gayly coloured plaid waist.

He hated the waist as he hated Victorine herself, without knowing why.

Enforced companionship in large quantities and on an equal basis between the sexes appears to sterilize the affections, and schoolroom romances are few.
Victorine's hair was thick, and the brickish glints in it were beautiful, but Penrod was very tired of it.

A tiny knot of green ribbon finished off the braid and kept it from unravelling; and beneath the ribbon there was a final wisp of hair which was just long enough to repose upon Penrod's desk when Victorine leaned back in her seat.

It was there now.