Her blue eyes were lit with laughter, her lips mocked him.

Usually reserved, she seemed at that moment to be inspired with an instinct which was something almost more than coquetry.

She leaned a little towards him.
The aloofness of her carriage and manner had suddenly disappeared.

He was conscious of the perfection of her white muslin gown, of the shape of her neck, the delicate lines and grace of her slim young body.
"You shall be chained here," she repeated.

"My uncle has a new theory of individualism.