She could only sit and look at him--at his beautiful youth all alight with the sudden flame of that which can set a young world on fire and sweep on its way either carrying devastation or clearing a path to Paradise.
His own natural light unconsciousness was amazing.

He only knew that he was in delightful high spirits.

The dancing, the music, the early morning were, he thought, accountable for it.
She bent forward to kiss his cheek and she patted his hand.
"My dear! My dear!" she said.

"How you have enjoyed your evening!" "There never was anything more perfect," with the light laugh again.
"Everything was delightful--the rooms, the music, the girls in their pretty frocks like a lot of flowers tossed about.

She danced like a bit of thistledown.