Her nose was as straight as Jane's own particularly fine
example of nose. Her dark gray eyes, beneath long, slender, coal
black lines of brow, were brimming with life and with fun. She
had a wide, frank, scarlet mouth; her teeth were small and sharp
and regular, and of the strong and healthy shade of white. She
had a very small, but a very resolute chin. With another quick,
free movement she stood up. She was indeed small, but formed in
proportion. She seemed out of harmony with her linen dress. She
looked as if she ought to be careening on the steppes in some
romantic, half-savage costume. Jane's first and instant thought
was, ``There's not another like her in the whole world. She's
the only living specimen of her kind.''
``Gracious!'' exclaimed Jane. ``But you ARE healthy.''
The smile took full advantage of the opportunity to broaden into
a laugh. A most flattering expression of frank, childlike
admiration came into the dark gray eyes. ``You're not sickly,
yourself,'' replied Selma. Jane was disappointed that the voice
was not untamed Cossack, but was musically civilized.
``Yes, but I don't flaunt it as you do,'' rejoined Jane. ``You'd
make anyone who was the least bit off, furious.''
Selma, still with the child-like expression, but now one of
curiosity, was examining Jane's masculine riding dress. ``What a
sensible suit!'' she cried, delightedly. ``I'd wear something
like that all the time, if I dared.
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