The flush on his cheeks bought out the dark Byronic beauty of his face. Mary marvelled again at how a man should choose to be a painter when he was so obviously born to be painted himself. Today he wore a soft white linen shirt with a scarlet neckerchief. Nothing about his appearance was careless but everything was carefree. He was like no man she'd ever met in Westbrook.
Following Ophelia, P111-112
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9
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