Her eyes were half closed, and her mouth drooped at the corners.

Her chin, supported on her left hand, glittering with jewels, was pushed forward aggressively, and she listened with indifference to the talk of her companion, a dark, smooth-featured man, with a bitter and menacing smile.
Mose was oppressed by her glance.

She seemed to be looking at him from the shadow as a tigress might glare from her den, and he ate awkwardly, and his food tasted dry and bitter.

Ultimately he became angry.

Why should this woman, or any woman, stare at him like that?
He would have understood her better had she smiled at him--he was not without experience of that sort, but this unwavering glance puzzled and annoyed him.
Putting her companion aside with a single gesture, the princess arose and came over to Mose's table and reached her hand to him.