Explore "The Problem of Cell 13" by Jacques Futrelle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
With a little laugh of sheer light-heartedness on her lips and a twinkle in her blue eyes, Marguerite Melrose bound on a grotesque automobile mask, and stuffed the last strand of her recalcitrant hair beneath her veil. The pretty face was hidden from mouth to brow; and her curls were ruthlessly imprisoned under a cap held in place by the tightly tied veil.
"It's perfectly hideous, isn't it? " she demanded of her companions.