Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. Good-bye aunt. Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner. His attitude was as different from Gianfrancesco’s as night was from day.
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