She wore a pink cloth gown, a flower-garlanded hat, a white coaching veil, beneath which her features were indistinguishable.

She brought with her a waft of strong perfume.
Her figure was a living suggestion of the struggle between maturity and the corsetiere.

Before she spoke she laughed--not altogether pleasantly.
"You here again!" she exclaimed to Mannering.

"Upon my word! I'm not a ghost! Hester, go and see about some tea, and a brandy and soda.

Billy Foa brought me up on his motor, and I'm half choked with dust." The girl rose obediently and quitted the room.