The coquettish angle at which her little black hat was set on her head seemed absurdly inappropriate to the occasion and her mood.  It suggested a hat being worn at some festival.  Her black, gloved hands were tightly twisted together in her lap, and she allowed her plump body to wag quite loosely with the motion of the carriage, making no attempt at resistance.  She had really the appearance of a corpse sitting up.  The tarpaulin flapped monotonously.  The coachman cried out in the dimness to his horses like a bird, prolonging his call drearily, and then violently cracking his whip.  Domini kept her eyes fixed on the loose tarpaulin, so that she might not miss one of the wet visions it discovered by its reiterated movement.  She had not slept at all, and felt as if there was a gritty dryness close behind her eyes.  She also felt very alert and enduring, but not in the least natural.  Had some extraordinary event occurred; had the carriage, for instance, rolled over the edge of the road into the sea, she was convinced that she could not have managed to be either surprised or alarmed, If anyone had asked her whether she was tired she would certainly have answered “No.”

Like her mother, Domini was of a gipsy type.  She stood five feet ten, had thick, almost coarse and wavy black hair that was parted in the middle of her small head, dark, almond-shaped, heavy-lidded eyes, and a clear, warmly-white skin, unflecked with colour.  She never flushed under the influence of excitement or emotion.  Her forehead was broad and low.  Her eyebrows were long and level, thicker than most women’s.  The shape of her face was oval, with a straight, short nose, a short, but rather prominent and round chin, and a very expressive mouth, not very small, slightly depressed at the corners, with perfect teeth, and red lips that were unusually flexible.  Her figure was remarkably athletic, with shoulders that were broad in a woman, and a naturally small waist.  Her hands and feet were also small.  She walked splendidly, like a Syrian, but without his defiant insolence.  In her face, when it was in repose, there was usually an expression of still indifference, some thought of opposition.  She looked her age, and had never used a powderpuff in her life.  She could smile easily and easily become animated, and in her animation there was often fire, as in her calmness there was sometimes cloud.  Timid people were generally disconcerted by her appearance, and her manner did not always reassure them.  Her obvious physical strength had something surprising in it, and woke wonder as to how it had been, or might be, used.  Even when her eyes were shut she looked singularly wakeful.