She remembered only too keenly the afternoon he had told her . They had been sitting in the snuggery , herself in the inglenook , and Roger coiled up in his big pet chair that nobody else ever sat in . '' ` What must my lady be that I must love her ? ' '' he had quoted . `` Well , I will paint my dream-love for you , Freda . She must be tall and slender , with chestnut hair of wonderful gloss , with just the suggestion of a ripple in it . She must have an oval face , colourless ivory in hue , with the expression of a Madonna ; and her eyes must be ` passionless , peaceful blue , ' deep and tender as a twilight sky . '' Freda , looking at herself along her arm in the mirror , recalled this description and smiled faintly . She was short and plump , with a piquant , irregular little face , vivid tinting , curly , unmanageable hair of ruddy brown , and big grey eyes . Certainly , she was not his ideal . `` When and where did you meet your lady of the Madonna face and twilight eyes ? '' she asked . Roger frowned . Freda 's face was solemn enough but her eyes looked as if she might be laughing at him . `` I have n't met her yet . I have only seen her . It was in the park yesterday . She was in a carriage with the Mandersons . So beautiful , Freda ! Our eyes met as she drove past and I realized that I had found my long-sought ideal .
I rushed back to town and hunted up Pete Manderson XXXXX the club .
Roger along as at for in of that twilight with