On the girlish figure it looked preposterous.
Preposterous too was her head-gear, an amorphous bonnet trimmed in black, with a cheap black feather drooping brokenly.
Her eyes gave me a reproachful glance and turned away again.

Then she shrugged her shoulders and sniffed.

My mother had a housemaid once who always sniffed like that before beginning to cry.

My position was untenable.

I could not remain stonily on the seat while this grotesquely attired damsel wept; and for the life of me I could not get up and leave her.