she was pretty. She had her father's red hair and she wore it bobbed in a great crinkling fuzz, out of which, as out of a fiery mist, her little face palely peered. Her teeth were small, even and very white. Her figure was as lithe as a serpent's and almost as slender. She was just fifty-nine inches long. Her hands and feet were very little ones. Her voice was very soft. She wore her clothes very perfectly and they were always just six months ahead.
Her father found her a terrifying little creature. When she was near he could never be quite happy. She always made him feel that she was licking her lips over him. It was his pleasure and habit to hold forth at table (when, at any rate, guests were present) upon current topics, Art, Letters, Music and other things. Sometimes, in the very middle of a period, he would become conscious that Chloë was
