There was the lure of sex in the depths of the blue eyes, and provocativeness in the drooping lines of the petulant, slightly parted lips.

There was a suggestion of meretriciousness in the tinted lips and the pretence of colour on the charming face.

The close air of the room was drenched with the heavy atmosphere of perfumes, mingled with the pungent smell of cigarette smoke.
Miss Heredith took a seat by the bedside.

The two women formed a striking contrast in types: the strong, rugged, practical country lady, and the fragile feminine devotee of beauty and personal adornment, who, in the course of time, was to succeed the other as the mistress of the moat-house.

The difference went far beyond externals; there was a wide psychological gulf between them--the difference between a woman of healthy mind and calm, equable temperament, who had probably never bothered her head about the opposite sex, and a woman who was the neurotic product of a modern, nerve-ridden city; sexual in type, a prey to morbid introspection and restless desires.
The younger woman regarded Miss Heredith with a rather peevish glance of her large eyes.