Summary

Various The Harmsworth Magazine, Vol. 1…

Berend, his face devoid of expression, though he had just been introduced to the most beautiful girl in Brussels, was looking down silently.
Lady Anstiss, her shoulder turned to him, was bestowing her slow, sweet smile, the smile that had already made her famous as a beauty, on someone in the distance.
"What stage of acquaintanceship must one reach," he said, gravely, "before being promoted to the honour of a smile from Lady Anstiss Carlyon?"
She looked a little annoyed.
"Some people never reach it," she answered; "the majority in fact. I reserve it for my personal friends—and they are few."
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Harmsworth Magazine, Vol. 1…

Guide had gone down under a blow, knocked senseless, and Walker had stumbled over him. Pitching forward, face downwards, on to the seat before he could recover, his head had dashed violently against the carpenter's bass. The sharp marline-spike inside, with its heel resting against the solid wall of the carriage, had entered the top of his skull like a bayonet. No human hand had been raised against him, and yet he had been killed.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Harmsworth Magazine, Vol. 1…

I confronted a lady who had just risen from the piano. With some surprise I noticed that it was not the elderly spinster, but a little damsel of prepossessing attributes, and with big merry-hearted eyes.
"I came to see Miss Ormerod," I explained.
"I am Miss Ormerod," she answered.
I am never a very self-possessed young man, and this sudden upsetting of my plans took me aback. The elderly spinster was obviously only a frequent visitor. It is one thing to appeal pathetically to the better feelings of a lady of advanced years, and another to explain matters to a young damsel.
Source: Gutenberg

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