1 In coloring he was not unlike his companion.
2 The hopelessness of it colored it with the lofty tones of a great passion.
3 Robert's going had some way taken the brightness, the color, the meaning out of everything.
4 His cheeks were the color of crushed grapes, and his dusky eyes glowed with a languishing fire.
5 Mrs. Pontellier's eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish brown, about the color of her hair.
6 She was growing accustomed to like shocks, but she could not keep the mounting color back from her cheeks.
7 It was the color of her skin, without the glow, the myriad living tints that one may sometimes discover in vibrant flesh.
8 They were girls of fourteen, always clad in the Virgin's colors, blue and white, having been dedicated to the Blessed Virgin at their baptism.
9 A small band of them were lying on their stomachs on the floor looking at the colored sheets of the comic papers which Mr. Pontellier had brought down.
10 That she was seeing with different eyes and making the acquaintance of new conditions in herself that colored and changed her environment, she did not yet suspect.
11 She was happy to be alive and breathing, when her whole being seemed to be one with the sunlight, the color, the odors, the luxuriant warmth of some perfect Southern day.
12 The boy grew more daring, and Mrs. Pontellier might have found herself, in a little while, listening to a highly colored story but for the timely appearance of Madame Lebrun.
13 Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of the fading day enriching her splendid color.
14 She grew fond of her husband, realizing with some unaccountable satisfaction that no trace of passion or excessive and fictitious warmth colored her affection, thereby threatening its dissolution.