Her lips were thin and took a bitter downward curve.

Her hair was quite colourless, almost like ashes; it had evidently once been light gold.
The hand she extended to Sylvia was so thin that she thought she could feel the bones rubbing together.

Her skin was hot and very dry.
"I hope you like this horrible country," she said.
"Oh, come, Matilda!" her husband protested.
"That's not a very cheery greeting for a newcomer!" She closed her thin lips without reply, and the downward curve became very unpleasantly apparent.
"I haven't found out all its horrors yet," said Sylvia lightly.
"It's a very thirsty place, I think, anyway just now.

Have you had anything ?" "We've only just got here," said Merston.
"Oh, I must see to it!" said Sylvia, and hastened within.
"Looks a jolly sort of girl," observed Merston to his wife.
"Wonder how--and when--Burke managed to catch her.

He hasn't been home for ten years and she can't be five-and-twenty." "She probably did the catching," remarked his wife tersely.