There was no great show of intellectuality in the forehead--it was broad, smooth, but not high; yet none of the features were small.

The jaw was square, the upper lip long.

At one end the mouth seemed to bend upwards in a twist of irony, rather than humour, and the lips themselves were thin--lips that could cut each word to a point if they chose, before they uttered it, a mouth by no means sensitive to the hard things it could speak.
To Sally it both feared and fascinated.

Whenever he was not looking, she could not take her eyes away.

In the pictures in her mind, it showed itself most often in ironic rage; yet he could look at her with an expression that wooed the softest of thoughts in her heart.
Then she felt a slave, and would have given him the world, held in her fingers, the gift would have seemed so small.
He looked up quickly from his plate--all motions of his head were alert.