who, when
she danced,
left a stab of perfume in the air,
like a white azalea
-- Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca (1938)
~
the smoke of her cigarette whirling back over her shoulder
like a sweet-smelling
scarf in the
wind
-- William Lindsay Gresham, Nightmare Alley (1946)
~
Mary Ann Weaver on Benazir Bhutto in Rawalpindi:
She was an icon -- beautiful,
imperial, aloof -- passing, almost dreamlike, through the dust and exhaust
fumes.
-- Pakistan (2002), p. 172
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