She got up from her kneeling posture on the hearth, and stood, a grotesque apparition enough, looking at him with her greenish, nondescript eyes. Her hay-coloured hair was tightly drawn back from a high, bulging forehead, her eyebrows were so light they scarcely showed at all, while her nose, which started in a nice straight line, had failed her at the last moment by suddenly taking an upward turn in an utterly incongruous fashion. She had high cheek-bones, a parchment skin, and a mouth that was not much more than a slit; the grotesque effect of the whole being heightened by a long, thin neck, which she made no effort to cover with a neat high collar, but accentuated by a half-and-half untidily loose one.
She wore a cheap, ready-made blouse, with absurd little bows tacked on down the front, which Ethel longed to abolish with one sweep, and her skirt, which had shrunk considerably in front, sagged in a dejected fashion behind.
Yet to Basil’s kindly eyes, there was something behind it all that was attractive. For one thing, she was so eminently sincere. One felt she had no delusions whatever, concerning her appearance or her oddities; and though she looked out upon life with that scornful, resentful air, she had yet a keener sense of humour and a clearer brain than most women. Under different circumstances she might have been a success.
As it was, she appeared to have got into a wrong groove altogether, and, unable to extricate herself, to have merely become an oddity. Basil, from his couch, looked up at her with friendly eyes, and she finished:
“One may want a little company, without wanting just any company.”
“You think you will find me even duller than nothing?” and his eyes twinkled.
“You know I didn’t mean that. You are clever, and well-read, and probably fastidious. I’m… well, you see what I am! and no good for anything except trying to restrain horrible children from thumping till they break the notes.”
“I thought you said you were a music-teacher?”
“That’s what they call it,” with a dry grimace; “but when I dare to be honest, I have too much respect for music.”
“Well, you won’t have to weary your soul restraining me from thumping anything, so it will be a change to come and talk to me. We’ll turn the tables, and I’ll try and restrain you from thumping the universe too hard.”