She was, in fact, of a short stature rather, but of proportions so exquisite that she conveyed an impression of some height.

In her hand she held a taper by whose light she had been surveying herself in her mirror at the moment of my advent.

Her unbound hair of brown fell like a mantle about her shoulders, and this fact it was drew me to notice that she was in her night-rail, and that this room to which I had penetrated was her chamber.
"Who are you ?" she asked breathlessly, as though in such a pass my identity were a thing that signified.
I had almost answered her, as I had answered the troopers at Mirepoix, that I was Lesperon.

Then, bethinking me that there was no need for such equivocation here, I was on the point of giving her my name.

But noting my hesitation, and misconstruing it, she forestalled me.
"I understand, monsieur," said she more composedly.