He noted that her hair curled over her brow in a way he had not pictured in the lady of his dreams; this was so much lovelier.

He did not care for tall girls; he had not cared for them for almost half an hour.

It was so much more beautiful to be dainty and small and piquant.

He had no notion that he was sighing in a way that would have put a furnace to shame, but he turned his eyes from her because he feared that if he looked longer he might blurt out some speech about her beauty.

His glance rested on the bank; but its diameter included the edge of her white skirt and the tip of a little, white, high-heeled slipper that peeped out beneath it; and he had to look away from that, too, to keep from telling her that he meant to advocate a law compelling all women to wear crisp, white gowns and white slippers on moonlight nights.
She picked a long spear of grass from the turf before her, twisted it absently in her fingers, then turned to him slowly.