Really few women could have done it as well.

The pale violet of her travelling costume which was touched with sable was becoming to her fine, straight figure.

And at the moment her eyes rested on his with the suggestion of trustful appeal.
Despite the inelasticity of his mind, he vaguely realised his bridegroom honours.
"I can begin now," he said with stiff lightness, if such a paradox can be, "to address you as the man in Esmond addressed his wife.

I can call you 'my lady.'" "Oh!" she said, still trying to smile, but quivering.
"You look very nice," he said.

"Upon my word you do." And kissed her trembling honest mouth almost as if he had been a man--not quite--but almost..