Dear Betty: Im inclosing that cold-cream recipe you asked for.
Sit right down there on the trunk till I get some of this cold-cream off.
Wait'll I get this cold-cream off, and tell me all about it.
Cold-cream removed, Miss Tracy enveloped her friend in an embrace.
But tired and sleepy as I was that night, I got up to cold-cream my face and arms.
A comedy in three acts, Betty called it—the losing of the cold-cream bottle and the finding of same in madam's overshoe.
Her lips were slightly cracked, and cold-cream seemed only to provide a surer resting place for the impalpable dust.
She pushed back the half-moons of his fingers with an orange stick dipped in cold-cream.
She flushed and placed them in a small glass vase behind the cold-cream case.
Miss Tracy laved her face with layers of cold-cream, which she presently removed with a towel.