The combination of the cat and the canary did not seem incongruous where she was concerned; it was as though something in her passionless self neutralized even the antagonisms of natural history.

She had made the gloomy black cat and the light-hearted canary to be friends.

Perhaps that came from an everlasting patience which her life had bred in her; perhaps it was the powerful gift of one in touch with the remote, primitive things.
The Young Doctor had also seen her in the paddock with the horses, bare-headed, lithe and so girlishly slim, with none of the unmistakable if elusive lines belonging to the maturity which marriage brings.

He had taken off his hat to her in the distance, but she had never waved a hand in reply.

She only stood and gazed at him, and her look followed him long after he passed by.