Page 358 - of-human-bondage-

With her large brown eyes, thin, ascetic face, her pale
skin, and broad forehead, she might have stepped out of a
picture by Burne-Jones. She had long, beautiful hands, with
fingers deeply stained by nicotine. She wore sweeping drap-
eries, mauve and green. There was about her the romantic
air of High Street, Kensington. She was wantonly aesthetic;
but she was an excellent creature, kind and good natured;
and her affectations were but skin-deep. There was a knock
at the door, and they all gave a shout of exultation. Miss
Chalice rose and opened. She took the leg of mutton and
held it high above her, as though it were the head of John
the Baptist on a platter; and, the cigarette still in her mouth,
advanced with solemn, hieratic steps.
‘Hail, daughter of Herodias,’ cried Cronshaw.
The mutton was eaten with gusto, and it did one good
to see what a hearty appetite the pale-faced lady had. Clut-
ton and Potter sat on each side of her, and everyone knew
that neither had found her unduly coy. She grew tired of
most people in six weeks, but she knew exactly how to treat
afterwards the gentlemen who had laid their young hearts
at her feet. She bore them no ill-will, though having loved
them she had ceased to do so, and treated them with friend-
liness but without familiarity. Now and then she looked at
Lawson with melancholy eyes. The poires flambees were a
great success, partly because of the brandy, and partly be-
cause Miss Chalice insisted that they should be eaten with
the cheese.
‘I don’t know whether it’s perfectly delicious, or whether
I’m just going to vomit,’ she said, after she had thoroughly