She had a deep-chested blue roan that looked as if he could run, and I had noticed that she wore the divided skirt, which is so popular among women who ride.
I don't, as a rule, notice much what women have on--but Beryl King's feet are altogether too small for the least observant man to pass over.

Edith's feet were well shod, but commonplace.
"I wish you'd let me have one of those pictures when they're done," I told her, as amiably as I could.
She pushed back a lock of hair.

"I'll send you one, if you like, when I get home.

What address do you claim, in this wilderness ?" I wrote it down for her and went my way, feeling a badly used young man, with a strong inclination to quarrel with fate.

Edith had managed, during her well-meant efforts at entertaining me, to couple Mr.Weaver's name all too frequently with that of her cousin.