Some slight embarrassment followed, an exchange of anxious and evil glances.
Camille, at three and twenty, was a very dark young woman, short of stature and somewhat deformed, with her left shoulder higher than the right.

There seemed to be nothing of her father or mother in her.

Her case was one of those unforeseen accidents in family heredity which make people wonder whence they can arise.

Her only pride lay in her beautiful black eyes and superb black hair, which, short as she was, would, said she, have sufficed to clothe her.

But her nose was long, her face deviated to the left, and her chin was pointed.