“In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. ’ Her lashes fluttered. It was locked. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. ” He handed her the phone reluctantly, barely masking his mild disgust.
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