Eulalie was tall, and very finely shaped: she was fair, and her features were those of a Low Country Madonna; many a "figure de Vierge" have I seen in Dutch pictures exactly resembling hers; there were no angles in her shape or in her face, all was curve and roundness--neither thought, sentiment, nor passion disturbed by line or flush the equality of her pale, clear skin; her noble bust heaved with her regular breathing, her eyes moved a little--by these evidences of life alone could I have distinguished her from some large handsome figure moulded in wax.

Hortense was of middle size and stout, her form was ungraceful, her face striking, more alive and brilliant than Eulalie's, her hair was dark brown, her complexion richly coloured; there were frolic and mischief in her eye: consistency and good sense she might possess, but none of her features betokened those qualities.
Caroline was little, though evidently full grown; raven-black hair, very dark eyes, absolutely regular features, with a colourless olive complexion, clear as to the face and sallow about the neck, formed in her that assemblage of points whose union many persons regard as the perfection of beauty.

How, with the tintless pallor of her skin and the classic straightness of her lineaments, she managed to look sensual, I don't know.

I think her lips and eyes contrived the affair between them, and the result left no uncertainty on the beholder's mind.

She was sensual now, and in ten years' time she would be coarse--promise plain was written in her face of much future folly.
If I looked at these girls with little scruple, they looked at me with still less.