But she was not a girl.

There was about her an air of quiet confidence as of one who knew something of the world and its ways.

She was young still, and it was yet in her to be ardent; but she had none of the giddy restlessness of youth.

Avery Denys was a woman who had left her girlhood wholly behind her.

Her enthusiasms and her impulses were kindled at a steadier flame than the flickering torch of youth.