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Updated: June 14, 2025
The usual stiffness of a first introduction was speedily broken down by the quaint conceits of the count. The countess had donned a flowing antique moiré dress and wore her hair in long English curls to match. "Come now, friend Szilard!" cried the count, "what do you say? this dress and that coiffure hardly suit the countess's style of face eh?"
Her face and form, but especially her eyes, showed her to be of quite a different race from these others. To me she was of medium height, yet she was taller than any of the people here that I had hitherto seen. Her complexion was much lighter; her hair was dark, luxuriant, and wavy, and arranged in a coiffure secured with a golden band.
In another half hour her hair was dried and built into the strange, but becoming, coiffure of her station; her leathern trappings, encrusted with gold and jewels, had been adjusted to her figure and she was ready to mingle with the guests that had been bidden to the midday function at the palace of The Warlord.
No wonder that with her admirably dressed, abundant hair, thickly sprinkled with white threads and adding to her elegant aspect the piquant distinction of a powdered coiffure no wonder, I say, that she clung desperately to her last infatuation for that graceless young scamp, even to the extent of hatching for him that amazing plot.
He surveyed it with such looks of enthusiasm as a statuary might bestow upon the spotless block of marble, whence he will fashion, ere long, the statue of a goddess. Marie Antoinette, from the mirror, saw his complacent face, and smiled. "What style do you intend to adopt for me?" asked she. "The coiffure a la Marie Antoinette," said Leonard. "I have never seen it."
No other costume could live by the side of that garment, Arab in shape, Russian in colour, and Parisian in style. It blazed. The woman's heavy coiffure was bound with fillets of gold braid and crimson rosettes. She was followed by a young Englishman in evening dress and whiskers of the most exact correctness.
For his benefit and that of Beatrice, he not only describes the costumes of the royal pair the king's gorgeous mantle of Lyons velvet, lined with yellow satin, and the queen's gold brocade robe and cape of lion skin lined with crimson but gives a minute account of Anne of Brittany's coiffure, a black velvet cap with a gold fringe hanging about a finger's length over her forehead, and a hood studded with big diamonds drawn over her head and ears.
Then she stretched her slim young arms above her head, her spoiled red mouth forming a scarlet O as she yawned. In her sleeveless and neckless nightgown, with her hair over her shoulders, minus the more elaborate coiffure which later in the day helped her to poise and firmness, she looked a pretty young girl, almost although Jane herself never suspected this almost an amiable young person.
And, perhaps, she did not care to have the neighbor's child around when the supposed Ida May came to the house for the first time. They saw her watching from the side door a tall, angular figure in a black dress. Her hair was done plainly and in no arrangement to soften the gaunt outline of her face, but there was much of it, and Sheila longed to make a change in that grim coiffure.
But hardly had she had time to complete this remark, when she caught sight of Hsi Jen walk in, who upon perceiving this state of things, became aware that he was already combed and washed, and she felt constrained to go back and attend to her own coiffure and ablutions. But suddenly, she saw Pao-ch'ai come in and inquire: "Where's cousin Pao-yue gone?"
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