Her usual appearance was like a curtain which--she could draw up at request for a capital performance.

This performance was simply suggestive; but it was a word to the wise--it was vivid and pretty.

Sometimes even I thought it, though she was plain herself, too insipidly pretty; I made it a reproach to her that the figures drawn from her were monotonously (BETEMENT, as we used to say) graceful.
Nothing made her more angry: it was so much her pride to feel she could sit for characters that had nothing in common with each other.

She would accuse me at such moments of taking away her "reputytion." It suffered a certain shrinkage, this queer quantity, from the repeated visits of my new friends.

Miss Churm was greatly in demand, never in want of employment, so I had no scruple in putting her off occasionally, to try them more at my ease.