little, delightful jump which she always startled in him, which he always expected and which, therefore, he should have been able to discount; but it still surprised him by its sudden lift in him. She spoke quickly yet softly; all alive, she kept herself; and she made you feel more alive, too, however fully alive you had thought yourself the minute before. You could never keep in your memory of her quite that quality of her voice, Gregg found; again it surprised him; and the sight of her surprised him, too.
She was, as always, prettier than he had expected. A silly word, pretty, to run in your mind to describe the cause of the pleasant sensation the sight of Marjorie gave you; for she was never one of those stupid girls whom people call pretty and beautiful. She possessed certain, perfectly definite beauties; like her hair; lovely, very fine hair and very abundant, dark brown in color. She had not bobbed it but, in a fashion which Gregg liked best since he observed it was hers, she wore it dressed low and close about her head; she had a broad, capable forehead, brown, definite brows and blue, pleasant eyes; her mouth was a trifle large, but her lips had none of the thickness of her father's. It was a wholly agreeable, good-tempered mouth suggestive of nothing more disturbing than a disposition to independence and recklessness. Her clear, white skin was one of her best features, and she had beautifully shaped hands, which were strong and well-developed for a girl who had never been obliged to work with them. Her arms were well-shaped and so was all her body. But Gregg seldom thought of her as having a beautiful form; he thought of her as able to do well all sorts of active, interesting things and, by nature, requiring something active, and preferably
