My first impression of Lola Brandt in the dimness of the room was that of a lithe panther in petticoats rising lazily from the depths of an easy chair.

A sinuous action of the arm, as she extended her hand to welcome me, was accompanied by a curiously flexible turn of the body.
Her hand as it enveloped, rather than grasped, mine seemed boneless but exceedingly powerful.

An indoor dress of brown and gold striped Indian silk clung to her figure, which, largely built, had an appearance of great strength.

Dark bronze hair and dark eyes, that in the soft light of the room glowed with deep gold reflections, completed the pantherine suggestion.

She seemed to be on the verge of thirty.