" In the museum they stopped to look at a
mummy.
"Oh, happy mummy!" burst from Ideala, involuntarily.
"Why?" asked Lorrimer, aroused from his apathy.
"It has done with it all, you know," she answered.
Then he turned and looked at her, and she saw that he was something
more than cold, pale-faced, and indifferent, which had been her first
idea of him. His eyes were large, dark grey, and penetrating. She would
have called his face fine, rather than handsome; but the upper part was
certainly beautiful, in spite of some hard lines on it. There was
something in the expression, more than in the formation, of the mouth
and chin, however, that did not satisfy. His head and throat were
splendid; the former narrowed a little at the back, but the forehead
made up for the defect, which was not striking. He made Ideala think of
Tito Melema and of Bayard.
That remark of hers having broken the ice, they began to talk like
human beings with something in common. But Ideala's mood was not
calculated to produce a good impression. The failure of her enterprise
brought on a fit of recklessness such as we understood, and she said
some things which must have made a stranger think her peculiar.
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