Very pretty, though, and still fresh-coloured, with the rosy cheeks some old people have.

Her _coiffe_ was drawn low upon the forehead and upon the top of the head, was composed of two or three large rolls of muslin that seemed to telescope out of one another, and fell on to the nape.

Her venerable face, framed in the pure white pleats, had almost a man's look, while her soft, tender eyes wore a kindly expression.

She had not the vestige of a tooth left, and when she laughed she showed her round gums, which had still the freshness of youth.
Although her chin had become as pointed "as the toe of a _sabot_" (as she was in the habit of saying), her profile was not spoiled by time; and it was easily imagined that in her youth it had been regular and pure, like the saints' adorning a church.
She looked through the window, trying to think of news that might amuse her grandson at sea.

There existed not in the whole country of Paimpol another dear old body like her, to invent such funny stories upon everybody, and even upon nothing.