It was a face without care, without vice, without fear, and without morals.

For the absence of vice with the absence of morals are not incongruous in a human face.

Sophie went into another room for a moment, and brought back a quaint cut-glass bottle of cordial.
"It is very good," she said, as she took the cork out; "better than peach brandy or things like that." He watched her pour it out into a wine-glass, and as soon as he saw the colour and the flow of it he was certain of its quality.
"That looks like good stuff," he said, as she handed him a glass brimming over; "but you must have one with me.

I can't drink alone, you know." "Oh, m'sieu', if you please, no," she answered half timidly, flattered by the glance of his eye--a look of flattery which was part of his stock-in-trade.

It had got him into trouble all his life.
"Ah, madame, but I plead yes!" he answered, with a little encouraging nod towards her.