Under the natural curls of her beautiful gray-gold hair a virginal face looked out at you with velvety eyes, which were at once soft and candid.
She wore a dress of faded green silk and a round hat which blows had dinted.

The cool air of the night made her look very pale.
"Egad, there's Satin," murmured Fauchery when his eye lit upon her.
La Faloise questioned him.

Oh dear, yes, she was a streetwalker--she didn't count.

But she was such a scandalous sort that people amused themselves by making her talk.

And the journalist, raising his voice: "What are you doing there, Satin ?" "I'm bogging," replied Satin quietly without changing position.
The four men were charmed and fell a-laughing.