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As he went over to his mill Pere Sorel called out to Julien in a stentorian voice

A willowy woman in a faux-fur pantsuit wafted by, bathed in clerestory light and smelling of lilies.

the nails of his shoes marking the friable crust of sand

not unpleasant (the lady was polite, discreet, unassuming) precisely because it was barely adumbrated

She had been reared by both parents to know that concupiscence was at the center of male attention; she learned it soon enough anyway in the arms of frenzied boys