Where did you meet with him ?" "On our way back from Paris." "Traveling in the same carriage with you ?" "No--it was in crossing the Channel.

There were few travelers in the steamboat, or I might never have noticed him." "Did he speak to you ?" "I don't think he even looked at me." "That doesn't say much for his taste, Stella." "You don't understand.

I mean, I have not explained myself properly.
He was leaning on the arm of a friend; weak and worn and wasted, as I supposed, by some long and dreadful illness.

There was an angelic sweetness in his face--such patience! such resignation! For heaven's sake keep my secret.

One hears of men falling in love with women at first sight.