She had just turned her fourteenth year; and though certainly not
considered, even in the east, as matured, yet, forced like a flower,
fanned by the sultry west wind, into early developement, her form, like
its petals bursting through the bud, gave promise of the rarest beauty
and sweetness. Nurtured in the shade, her hue was pale, but contrasted
with the date-coloured women about her, the soft and transparent
clearness of her complexion was striking; and it was heightened by
clouds of the darkest hair. She looked like a solitary star unveiled
in the night, The breadth and depth of her clear and smooth forehead
were partly hidden by the even silky line from which the hair arose,
fell over in rich profusion, and added to its brightness; as did the
glossy, well-defined eye-brow, boldly crossing the forehead, slightly
waved at the outer extremities, but not arched. Her eyes were full, even
for an orientalist, but neither sparkling nor prominent, soft as the
thrush's. It was only when moved by joy, surprise, or sorrow, that the
star-like iris dilated and glistened, and then its effect was most
eloquent and magical.
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