At the time of the doctor's death she was nineteen, tall and graceful, and very dark and pale.
When the winds of the day flushed her cheek she was beautiful; but it was a beauty that hid the mystery of her face.

The sun made her merry, but she looked more noble when it had set; then her pallor shone with a soft, radiant light, as though the mystery and sadness and serenity of the moon were in it.

The full beauty of Grizel came out only at night, like the stars.
I had made up my mind that when the time came to describe Grizel's mere outward appearance I should refuse her that word "beautiful" because of her tilted nose; but now that the time has come, I wonder at myself.

Probably when I am chapters ahead I shall return to this one and strike out the word "beautiful," and then, as likely as not, I shall come back afterwards and put it in again.

Whether it will be there at the end, God knows.