Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. She held out her arms to him and smiled. "Within the last few minutes, all my guilty life has passed before me. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead.
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