The heavy plaits which were wound tightly round her head must have fallen below her knees when they were undone.

Her coiffure gave you the impression that she never thought of fashion, nor changed its form of dressing, from year to year.

And the exquisite planting of the hair on her forehead, as it waved back in broad waves, added to the perfection of the Greek simplicity of the whole thing.

Nothing about her had been aided by conscious art.

Her dress, of some black clinging stuff, was rather poor, though she wore it with the air of a traditional empress.
Indeed, she looked an empress, from the tips of her perfect fingers to her small arched feet.
And it was with imperial hauteur that she asked in a low, cultivated voice with no accent: "Well, what is it?
Why have you sent for me thus peremptorily ?" The financier surveyed her for a moment; he seemed to be taking in all her points with a fresh eye.