"Yes, isn't it—well, she has the most divine figure, quite slight and yet not scraggy—you know the kind, I loathe them scraggy!"
"I hate fat people."
"But she isn't fat. I tell you she is too sweet. She has a round baby face with the loveliest violet eyes in the world and such a skin!—like a velvet rose petal!" His unabashed regard penetrated Sabine who smiled slyly.
"You don't mean to say you can see all these material things in a ghost!" she cried with an enchanting air of incredulity.
"Perfectly—I have not half finished yet. I have not told you about her mouth—it is very curved and full and awfully red—and there is the most adorable dimple up at one side of it, I am sure the people in the ghost world that she meets must awfully want to kiss it."
Sabine frowned. This was rather too intimate a description, but bashfulness or diffidence she knew were not among Mr. Arranstoun's qualities—or defects.
"I think I am tired of hearing what this ghost looks like, I want to know what does she do? Aren't you petrified with fright?"
"Not in the least," Michael told her, "but you will just have to hear about her hair—when it comes down it is like lovely bronze waves—and her little feet, too—they are exquisite enough in shoes and stockings, but without——!"
Here he had the grace to look at his fish which was just being handed.
A flush as pink as the pinkest rose came into Sabine's cheeks—he was perfectly disgraceful and this was of course in shocking taste—but when he glanced up again his attractive blue eyes had her late look of an innocent kitten's in them and he said in an angelic tone: