“No, I like them. They suggest reserve power and brain capacity.”
“Good, I never thought of that.”
“You have a face that is massive, almost leonine, and a square-cut determined mouth, that always clean shaven, sometimes looks too grim.”
“I ’ll remember that and look pleasant.”
“You have a big hand and sometimes shake hands too strongly. You have a handsome aristocratic foot when you wear decent shoes. You often walk humpshouldered, and sit so too.”
“I ’ll brace up.”
“You have deep vertical wrinkles between your eyes just where your straight eyebrows meet.”
“Heavens, I didn’t know I had wrinkles!”
“Yes, but they mean habits of thought like your stooping shoulders, I don’t object to such wrinkles in a man’s face. But the best feature of all your stock is your eye. Your big brown eyes are about the only perfect thing about you. There’s infinite tenderness in them. Now and then they gleam with a hidden fire that tells of enthusiasm, thought, will, character, and dauntless courage.”
She looked and they were misty with tears.