Her nose was straight and very thin, rather
pinched at the nostrils. Her lips were thin and took a bitter
downward curve. Her hair was quite colourless, almost like ashes;
it had evidently once been light gold.
The hand she extended to Sylvia was so thin that she thought she
could feel the bones rubbing together. Her skin was hot and very
dry.
"I hope you like this horrible country," she said.
"Oh, come, Matilda!" her husband protested.
"That's not a very cheery greeting for a newcomer!"
She closed her thin lips without reply, and the downward curve
became very unpleasantly apparent.
"I haven't found out all its horrors yet," said Sylvia lightly.
"It's a very thirsty place, I think, anyway just now. Have you had
anything?"
"We've only just got here," said Merston.
"Oh, I must see to it!" said Sylvia, and hastened within.
"Looks a jolly sort of girl," observed Merston to his wife.
"Wonder how--and when--Burke managed to catch her. He hasn't been
home for ten years and she can't be five-and-twenty."
"She probably did the catching," remarked his wife tersely. "But
she will soon wish she hadn't."
Sylvia returned two minutes later bearing a tray of which Merston
hastened to relieve her.
"We're wondering--my wife and I--how Burke had the good fortune to
get married to you," he said.
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