She was certainly not a pretty girl from the standpoint of a music hall audience. There was something indefinably Mongolian about her face. The planes were flat; the cheek bones high; the oblique; the nose wide, short, and vital; the mouth a long, thin, rippling curve like a mad sunset. The eyes were tiny and green, with a piquant elfin expression. Her hair was curiously colourless, it was very abundant; she had wound great ropes about her head. It reminded me of the armature of a dynamo. It produced a weird effect, this mingling of the savage Mongol with savage Norseman type. Her strange hair fascinated me. It was that delicate flaxen hue, so fine, no, I I don't know how to tell you about it, I can't think of it without getting all muddled up.
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