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Updated: May 21, 2025
But the women who proceed from the division of primitive women do not bestow much attention upon men, but are drawn toward their own sex. So do not be astonished when you see " "Did you invent that precious story, doctor?" inquired Nanteuil, pinning a rose in her bodice. The doctor protested that he had not invented a word of it. On the contrary, he had, he said, left out part of the story.
Ossipon, not looking at her, and with a face like a fresh plaster cast of himself after a wasting illness, said: “By-the-by, I ought to have the money for the tickets now.” Mrs Verloc, undoing some hooks of her bodice, while she went on staring ahead beyond the splashboard, handed over to him the new pigskin pocket-book.
Then through the blur the necklace took shape, point by point of light, pearl by pearl, until the whole chain grew definite in the parting of the bodice, resting on the rise of her young bosom. Yes, and the girl saw that it was good. A string of words danced upon her brain, as though the mirrored pearls reflected them.
The right arm hung almost straight at her side, the hand ready to gather a fold of the white brocaded skirt; the left slanted up to her bosom, where its finger-tips touched the stem of a white rose in the lace at the parting of the bodice. . . . So she stood for ten seconds maybe under the droop of the heavy curtain Manasseh held aside for her. The hush of the room was homage to her beauty.
And now I must tell you that I want to dress. I have to go out immediately." She pinned the pink into her bodice so high that she could inhale its perfume. "I beg your pardon. Thank you, and good-by," she said, extending her hand to him with a sigh. "Au revoir." "Yes 'au revoir' at home but that will not be like here."
The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined in her hair and fell on her neck.
Where he stood in the golden evening he saw the rosy curled mouth, the soft troubled eves, the little brown hands that still tried to fasten the rosebud, the young peach-like skin where the wind stirred the bodice; she was only a little Flemish peasant, this poor little Bébée, a little thing of the fields and the streets, for all the dreams of God that abode with her.
She had drawn a blue ribband that she happened to possess, round the arms of the dress and round the bodice of it, and when she saw how this little thread of colour set off the full outlines of her bust and the white roundness of her arms, she could have kissed her image in the glass. She was lovely, prettier than any girl in the section. George would see that; he loved beautiful things.
She was in too indulgent a mood to withhold her "Come in," and as Miss Macy crossed the threshold, Lizzie felt that Vincent Deering's first letter the letter from the train had slipped from her loosened bodice to the floor. Miss Macy, as promptly noting the fact, darted forward to recover the letter.
One of them was a fleur-de-lis, wearing a skirt of green leaf blades and a bodice representing the purple petals of the blossom. George Foster was monkshood, a cambric robe a "domino" serving to give the blue color note, and a very correct imitation of the flower's helmet answering the purpose of a head-dress.
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