The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. Don’t be frightened, dear.
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