Wash off that scowl and try to look as I said...

There, that's better.

Hold it." He began to paint rapidly, with quick glances back and forth between the canvas and Maggie.

Maggie's dress was just the ordinary shirt-waist and skirt that the shopgirl and her sisters wear; Hunt had ordered it so.
She was above the medium height, with thick black hair tinted with shadowy blue, long dark lashes, dark scimitars of eyebrows, a full, firm mouth, a nose with just the right tilt to it--all effective points for Hunt in what he wished to do.

But what had attracted him most and given him his idea was her look; hardly pertness, or impudence--rather a cynical, mature, defiant certainty in herself.
Erect in her cheap shirt-waist, she gazed off into space with a smiling, confident challenge to all the world.