Carefully she drew a line of purest red,with a tiny brush of
softest horse hair. She drew it along the outline of her lips,
smooth and precise. She coloured her lips in the same red,
regulating the evenness of the pigment in the brass mirror before
her. Her cheeks, nose, forehead and chin were lightened with powder,
and now she selected another small brush and shaded her eyelids
to emphasise her eyes. From bottles on the table she chose a blue-coloured vial and applied the highly scented oil to her neck, wrists and cleavage. Her toilette completed, she placed all the cosmetics in her small chest and closed the lid.
He frowned; his eyes were beginning to cloud from the concentration
he had been directing so constantly to the sheets before him. He
lay the bundle he had been studying down on the bench and rubbed
his eyes with thumb and forefinger, trying to clear his mind. He
'Ruben.' He heard her voice - they had met in the corridor and she
approached him, her dress and wrap both of deep green fabric that
touched the floor. She took his hand in both of hers and asked,
'are you coming?' Her eyes seemed to search for something in his
face and he, not understanding the meaning of her look, said a
little shortly, 'Yes,' as a slight confusion rose in his eyes.
She realised she had unsettled him, and looked down quickly, feeling
silly for letting her urgency show. She smiled nervously and said,
'Oh, good - I'm glad -' and added, referring to the unsaid
interchange a moment ago, 'don't worry.'
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