This morning she was wearing a soft blue robe.

His body was rich with the smell of rose oil and she put her arms around him, snuggling in to the soft robe.

Heather joined him as she wrapped a soft, blue robe about herself.

She wore a soft, white robe, and there was a large book on the table in front of her.

He was wearing the soft robes which she had so carefully scented.

He had on a soft white robe lined with red.

He sat hunched slightly forward, the dark soft robe hiding his hands.

And now at last she saw him emerge from it, wearing a soft, rich robe.

This was pleasant: the soft robe on her shoulders, the good meal.

From this he took a long soft robe, and hung it to warm by the fire.