Her brow was thoughtful now, her air more demure.

Faint blue shadows lay beneath her eyes.

A certain hauteur, it seemed to me, was visible in her mien, yet she was the soul of graciousness, and, I must admit, as charming a hostess as ever invited one to usual or unusual repast.
The little table in the center of the room was already spread.

Madam filled my cup from the steaming urn with not the slightest awkwardness, as she nodded for me to be seated.

We looked at each other, and, as I may swear, we both broke into saving laughter.
So we sat, easier now, as I admit, and, with small concern for the affairs of the world outside at the time, discussed the very excellent omelet, which certainly did not allow the reputation of Threlka to suffer; the delicately grilled bones, the crisp toasted rye bread, the firm yellow butter, the pungent early cress, which made up a meal sufficiently dainty even for her who presided over it.
Even that pitiless light of early morning, the merciless cross-light of opposing windows, was gentle with her.