The glow that illumined his face was just the same, quite of the best French manner, too.

She had seen people who _were_ people and she knew.

She admitted, too, that he was very handsome, with the slenderness of youth, but strong and muscular, and above all, his face was good.
Antoine with the napkin over his arm did most of the serving, and being a man the conventional differences did not seem to him so great as they did to his daughter.
"A handsome pair," he said to her.
But while willing to admit much to herself, Suzanne would not admit it to her father.
"Aye, handsome," she replied in a fierce whisper, "but not well matched.

He comes from an uncivilized continent on the other side of the world, and soon he'll be going back there.

I would that her brother, Monsieur Philip, were here where he ought to be.