Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. How she had fought her eagerness in the beginning, lest it reveal her ignorance of the marvels of mankind! The terror and ecstasy of that night in Singapore— the first city she had ever seen! There was still the impression that something akin to a miracle had piloted her successfully from one ordeal to another. ” She batted his arms and slapped him, angrily twisting from his grasp. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked.
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