From the factory. To the public house for a warm beer every third nightaethe whole process repeating itself ad nauseam. You have a purpose in the machinery of this book, and though it is not large, it is necessary. We have brought you here to describe her to us, we being too far away in time and space to form a clear impression. Please, dear friend, keep us in suspense no longer.
First impressions are difficult to shake, dear friend, so please, be precise.
Begin with her face. Oh, hers is a more Gaulish beautyaeif you dare to use the term as a compliment barely fifteen years after Waterlooaewith delicate arching brows, a reasonably straight nose, and large, dark, almost navy blue eyes. Her slightly sunken cheeks are drizzled with light frecklesaehereditary, you would wager, for surely freckles coaxed out by a pleasant day at the shore would not sit so starkly against white skin. And she is very pale. Hers is the skin of a girl who never sees the light of day.