Never before had he been so impressed by her beauty, and yet there
was an element in it which made him shiver with a dread he could
not explain to himself. He was surprised and shocked to find how
pale and wan her face had become, but in every severe marble curve
of her features he saw the word, "Misjudged." He could scarcely
recognize her as the blooming girl that he had first seen in the
concert garden. Suffering, trouble of mind, was evidently the dark
magician that was thus transforming her; but why did she suffer so
deeply? As she sat there before him, not only his deeper instincts,
but his reason refused almost indignantly to associate her any
longer with Sibley. There was a time when she seemed akin to him;
but now she suggested deep trouble, despair, death even, rather
than a gross "bon vivant." Was she ill! Yes, evidently, but he
doubted if her malady had physical causes.
"What a very strange toilet she has made!" he thought; "simple and
plain to the last degree, and yet singularly effective and striking.
Her fingers were once loaded with rings, but she has taken them all
off, and now her hands are as perfect as her features. She does
not wear a single ornament, save those ominous poniards.
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