She, of course, was the better looking of the two, a really pretty and attractive young woman indeed, but the vivacity of Anscombe's face, the twinkle of his merry blue eyes and its general refinement made up for what he lacked--regularity of feature.

I think he had just told her one of his good stories which he always managed to make so humorous by a trick of pleasing and harmless exaggeration, and they were both laughing merrily.

Then she caught sight of the doctor and her merriment evaporated like a drop of water on a hot shovel.

Distinctly I saw her pull herself together and prepare for something.
"How do you do ?" she said rapidly, rising and holding out her slim sun-browned hand.

"But I need not ask, you look so well." "How do you do, my dear," with a heavy emphasis on the "dear" he answered slowly.