human
she looked an _aristocrate jusqu'au bout des ongles_, a beautiful, brilliant, dazzling brunette, with lovely hazel eyes, flashing like a tartaret falcon's under their arched pencilled eyebrows, quite an unhoped godsend in Vicq d'Azyr, where only stragglers resort as yet, though--alas for my Arcadia--my sister's pet physician, who sent them thither, is about, I believe, to publish a work, entitled
gpt
The Water-Spring in the Wilderness; or, A Scamper through Spots Unknown,