The children looked up at him, and moved away, for they were always afraid of him, and at this moment his face was dreadful to see.
Yet it was nothing dreadful that he looked upon.

Marie was standing with her head bent down over her violin, in a pretty way she had.

A light, slight figure, not short, yet with a look that spoke all of youth and morning grace.

She wore a little blue gown, patched and faded, and dusty enough after her day's walk; her feet were dusty too, but slender and delicately shaped.

Her face was like nothing that had been seen in those parts before, and the beauty of it seemed to strike cold to the man's heart, as he stood and gazed with unwilling eyes, hating the feeling that constrained him, yet unable for the moment to restrain it or to turn his eyes away.