She saw what she had roused, and grew afraid herself.

She pretended to become interested in the Watteau cupids on her fan.
"How shall I describe her ?" he said.

"I have seen only paintings and marbles, and these are inanimate.

I have never seen angels, so I can not draw a comparison there.

Have you ever seen ripe wheat in a rain-storm?
That is the color of her hair.