"Rose Stribling, you must admit, is the type that has been the desire of the world since Venus first rose from the foam." "Can you imagine Mrs.Stribling rising from foam ?" Stephen retorted impertinently.
"No, Venus has grown fatter through the ages," assented Corinna, "but the type is unchanged.

Now, among all the compliments that have been paid me in my life, no one has ever compared me to the Goddess of Love.
I have been painted with the bow of Diana, but never with the doves of Venus." Because he felt that her gaiety rippled over an undercurrent of pain, Stephen bent forward and touched her hand with an impulse of tenderness.
"You are more beautiful than you ever were in your life," he said.
"There isn't a woman in the world who can compare with you." Then he laughed merrily.

"I shall watch you two to-morrow evening, you and Rose Stribling." "I am sorry," replied Corinna in a troubled voice.

"I may tell you the truth since Father says it is the last thing any one ever believes--and the truth is that she makes me savage--yes, I mean it--she makes me savage." "I know what the Judge means when he says you are like Vetch," returned Stephen abruptly.

Then, without waiting for her reply, he added in an impulsive tone: "Triumph over her to-morrow night, Corinna.