Miss LeMar stopped singing and turned around on the organ stool as they entered . The little room was flooded with a mellow light from the pink-globed lamp on the table , and in the soft , shadowy radiance she was as beautiful as a dream . She wore a dress of crepe , cut low in the neck . Estella had never seen anyone dressed so before . To her it seemed immodest . She introduced Spencer . He bowed awkwardly and sat stiffly down by the window with his eyes riveted on Miss LeMar 's face . Estella , catching a glimpse of herself in the old-fashioned mirror above the mantel , suddenly felt a cold chill of dissatisfaction . Her figure had never seemed to her so stout and stiff , her brown hair so dull and prim , her complexion so muddy , her features so commonplace . She wished Miss LeMar would go out of the room . Vivienne LeMar watched the two faces before her ; a hard gleam , half mockery , half malice , flashed into her eyes and a smile crept about her lips . She looked straight in Spencer Morgan 's honest blue eyes and read there the young man 's dazzled admiration . There was contempt in the look she turned on Estella . `` You were singing when we came in , '' said Spencer . `` Wo n't you go on , please ? I am very fond of music . '' Miss LeMar turned again to the organ . The gleaming curves of her neck and shoulders rose out of their filmy sheathings of lace . Spencer , sitting where he could see her face with its rose-leaf bloom and the ringlets of golden hair clustering about it , gazed at her , unheeding of aught else . Estella saw his look .
She suddenly began XXXXX hate the black-eyed witch at the organ -- and to fear her as well .
about above as at before into of on to with