And there's your cousin coming down the walk.

I know you've been waiting for her." Ruth tried to keep in countenance, but a blush of shame and a frown of irritation came in spite of her.
"I'm sorry I can't ask Susie, too," pursued Lottie, in a voice of hypocritical regret.

"But there are to be exactly eighteen couples--and I couldn't." "Of course not," said Ruth heartily.

"Susan'll understand." "I wouldn't for the world do anything to hurt her feelings," continued Lottie with the self-complacent righteousness of a deacon telling the congregation how good "grace" has made him.
Her prominent commonplace brown eyes were gazing up the walk, an expression distressingly like envious anger in them.

She had a thick, pudgy face, an oily skin, an outcropping of dull red pimples on the chin.