She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. Oh the back of her arm she found the faintest down of hair in the world. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. She is like some character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty years and just been excavated.
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