"I am twenty-nine years old--practically thirty.
That is to say, with the usual twenty years' allowance, you and I are of the same age." He looked across at her, across the lace-draped table with its bowls of fruit, its richly-cut decanter of wine, its low bowl of roses, its haze of cigarette smoke.

She was leaning back in her chair, her head resting upon the fingers of one hand.

Her face seemed alive with so many emotions.

She was so anxious to console, so interested in her companion, herself, and the moment.

He felt something unexpected and irresistible.
"I would to God I could look at it like that!" he exclaimed suddenly.
The words had left his lips before he was conscious that the thought which had lain at the back of them had found expression in his tone and glance.