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Mrs Pontellier's eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish

brown, about the color of her hair She had a way of turning the them there as if lost in soht

Her eyebroere a shade darker than her hair They were thick and

al the depth of her eyes She was rather

handso by reason of a certain

frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features Her

arette He sars, he said He had a cigar in his pocket which Mr

Pontellier had presented hi it for his

after-dinner smoke

This see he was

not unlike his companion A clean-shaved face made the resemblance more

pronounced than it would otherwise have been There rested no shadow of

care upon his open countenance His eyes gathered in and reflected the

light and languor of the summer day

Mrs Pontellier reached over for a palan to fan herself, while Robert sent between his lips light puffs

fros around