Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. He had been back for two weeks during some pleasant weather in July. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. . She traced him by his scent. "I am. ” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily.
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