1 She had a round, sly, piquant face and pretty black eyes.
2 They were thick and almost horizontal, emphasizing the depth of her eyes.
3 His eyes gathered in and reflected the light and languor of the summer day.
4 She began to cry a little, and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her peignoir.
5 She was a homely woman, with a small weazened face and body and eyes that glowed.
6 Edna Pontellier, casting her eyes about, had finally kept them at rest upon the sea.
7 Her eyes gleamed bright and intense, with no sleepy shadows, as they looked into his.
8 She looked Mariequita up and down, from her ugly brown toes to her pretty black eyes, and back again.
9 Mrs. Pontellier's eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish brown, about the color of her hair.
10 She was saucy the next, moving her head up and down, making "eyes" at Robert and making "mouths" at Beaudelet.
11 The tears came so fast to Mrs. Pontellier's eyes that the damp sleeve of her peignoir no longer served to dry them.
12 Let me see, she went on, throwing back her head and narrowing her fine eyes till they shone like two vivid points of light.
13 "Granted; as many as you like," he returned, glancing down into her eyes that were full of thoughtfulness and some speculation.
14 Turning, she thrust her face, steaming and wet, into the bend of her arm, and she went on crying there, not caring any longer to dry her face, her eyes, her arms.
15 She could not leave his presence when he was there, nor remove her eyes from his face, which was something like Napoleon's, with a lock of black hair failing across the forehead.
16 If one of the little Pontellier boys took a tumble whilst at play, he was not apt to rush crying to his mother's arms for comfort; he would more likely pick himself up, wipe the water out of his eyes and the sand out of his mouth, and go on playing.
17 There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the spun-gold hair that comb nor confining pin could restrain; the blue eyes that were like nothing but sapphires; two lips that pouted, that were so red one could only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in looking at them.
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