Your hands are like ice," she said.
"Yes, I am usually cold now; I don't know why." Lucy then saw a curious change in her face.

The fine meanings were not in it now.

It was fatter--coarser; the hair was dead, the eyes moved sluggishly, like the glass eyes of a doll.
"You are always cold?
Your blood is thin, perhaps.

You are overtired, dear.

Have you travelled much ?" "Oh, yes! all of the time.