The late afternoon, en effet. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity.
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