"it is fear, mr. holmes. it is terror." she raised her veil as she spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state of agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless frightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal. her features and figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot with premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. sherlock holmes ran her over with one of his quick, all-comprehensive glances.