She was a queer unkempt figure, in spite of the attempts that had obviously been made to bring her into line for the day.

Her face was pale, yellowish, with a clear, transparent skin, she leaned forward rather, her features were strongly marked, handsome, with a tense, unseeing, predative look.
Her colourless hair was untidy, wisps floating down on to her sac coat of dark blue silk, from under her blue silk hat.

She looked like a woman with a monomania, furtive almost, but heavily proud.
Her son was of a fair, sun-tanned type, rather above middle height, well-made, and almost exaggeratedly well-dressed.

But about him also was the strange, guarded look, the unconscious glisten, as if he did not belong to the same creation as the people about him.

Gudrun lighted on him at once.