The soft, fair hair was thickly powdered,
the cheeks rouged, and the whiteness of the chin and forehead enhanced
by many patches. The eyes were intelligent, but restless and insincere,
the mouth too small.
"'Twill have to be for another time, Calvert," said Beaufort, after an
instant's pause, during which Mr. Morris installed himself beside the
lady with the evident intention of staying. "'Tis plain that the
beautiful Madame de Flahaut has thrown her spell over him, and 'twill
not do to break it just yet. But by St. Denis!" he suddenly whispered to
Calvert, "here comes d'Azay with the Duchess and Madame de St. Andre,
attended as usual by St. Aulaire."
Calvert followed Beaufort's glance and saw entering the room his friend
d'Azay, at whose side, slowly and proudly, walked an old woman. She bore
herself with a nobility of carriage Calvert had never seen equalled, and
her face, wrinkled and powdered and painted though it was, was the face
of one who had been beautiful and used to command. Her dark eyes were
still brilliant and glittered humorously and shrewdly from beneath their
bushy brows.
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