They were a trite large when on, but to the hands unaccustomed to gloves they were like being run into a mould.
Elizabeth stood it all until she was pronounced complete.

Then she came and stood in front of the cheap little glass, and surveyed herself.

There were blisters in the glass that twisted her head into a grotesque shape.
The hairpins stuck into her head.

Lizzie had tied a spotted veil tight over her nose and eyes.

The collar of the silk waist was frayed, and cut her neck.