He saw his wife before she saw him. Although he was terribly nearsighted, he knew which of the blurry white forms was hers, even before she came into focus. Squinting his eyes, as he did when aiming at his quarry, her image took on greater clarity. In her white muslin dress, the sheer fichu draped carelessly yet artfully around her neck and shoulders, veil fluttering off the side of her wide hat, she was a vision of beauty that always, when he had not seen her for a few hours, left him breathless.
Trianon - Elena Maria Vidal
