Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. “I can see you and Anna groaning and nodding your grave heads together. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. “Just fine.
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