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Updated: June 12, 2025
A blooming red-lipped Venus?... Try to learn to walk across the stage as if you had one leg that wasn't wood, anyway.... It's customary to go to sleep when you're playing a listening rôle, but don't snore!... Oh, you're a swell actor! Think of me swallering your story about having been t' college!... Don't make up your eyebrows so heavy, you fool.... Why you ever wanted to be an actor !"
They were a strange-looking people all swarthy, dark-haired, red-lipped, men and women alike having their ears pierced. The rings in the lobes of the women's ears were much larger than the ornaments in those of the men. At a certain opening in the shrubbery, the men ahead, looking upward, beheld the stalled auto and the two girls in it. One man held up his hand and the first wagon stopped.
This was Charles Batty, taking a great deal of trouble over his purchase, for spread before him on the counter was an assortment of large chocolate boxes adorned with bows of ribbon and pictures of lovers leaning over stiles and red-lipped maidens caressing dogs. 'I don't like these pictures, Henrietta heard him mutter bashfully. 'Here's one with roses.
Her heavy bronze-gold braids swung forward, and their ends coiled down on the dresser-top. Between them her little pointed face looked straight at her, blue-eyed, red-lipped, and serious. Its owner eyed it perplexedly awhile, then gave up the riddle. "If you look like pictures and poetry you do, and that's all there is to it.
He was a ruddy young fellow; he had a broad visage, with a wide, facetious red-lipped mouth, a quick, blithe, brown eye, and a broad, blunt nose.
Near the outer edge of the throng was a red-lipped Juno, superbly rounded, who had gleaned in the fields until she was all a Gipsy brown, and her movements of a Gipsy grace in their freeness. She did not greet the young Elder as did the others, seeming, indeed, to be unconscious of his presence.
We had SEEN it all the sleeping genius the roguish, red-lipped girl the kiss dropped as lightly as a rose-petal on the sunburned cheek. "They should have got married," said Felix. "Well, in a book they would have, but you see this was in real life," said the Story Girl. "We sometimes act the story out. I like it when Peter plays the poet.
'To be Mrs Quilp the second, when Mrs Quilp the first is dead, sweet Nell, said Quilp, wrinkling up his eyes and luring her towards him with his bent forefinger, 'to be my wife, my little cherry-cheeked, red-lipped wife. Say that Mrs Quilp lives five year, or only four, you'll be just the proper age for me. Ha ha!
They were tall and ruddy; the King's Son was more brown in the hair and more hawk-like in the face: the three were different from the dark-haired, dark-eyed, red-lipped lad to whom the Old Woman of Beare had given the name of Flann. No one had seen the King who lived in the Red Castle, Dermott and Downal told the other two.
'This is a small matter, he said. We'll play for double-eagles, and so they did, and he won. 'Haven't you a tract of sugar-canes? says he. 'Money's naugh. Let us play for land! and he won the sugar-canes. 'That girl, that red-lipped Jeanne of thine, that black eye in the Street of Flowers I'll play for her! Deal the cards! But he never won the girl, and he lost the sugar-canes and the gold."
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