For the summer, since it often became unbearably hot in the mountains where the Summer Sisters Girls Camp was located, especially near the end of July and the whole of August, she usually had her hair cut in a shorter style than she wore at college, but it was still a long cry from the dykish look she detested. That year she'd decided on a pageboy cut, with bangs across the front of her forehead and a flip at the back of her neck where the hair turned under. It was an attractive cut and perfectly framed the fragile beauty of Pat's face.

She had always thought her nose was a little too long for the rest of her features, but aside from that she knew she was a very pretty girl. Her eyes were an especially good asset. Set under brows and thick lashes that were as shimmering black as her other hair, Pat's eyes blazed like chunks of midnight coal dropped into pools of white cream. She had learned to use her eyes in a dozen expressions, from intense lust to extreme anger, without shifting the position of any other part of her face. While her lips were still curved up in a bright smile, her eyes could be staring right through someone with the utmost contempt. And, on the other hand, with her face set in an expressionless mask that gave no clue to what she was thinking, her eyes might be making love to a pretty girl across the room.

Her cheeks and facial bone structure could not have been improved upon by a sculptor. With the pale, milk-white complexion she had for most of the year, her profile seemed to be made of the finest white marble. Her sensuous mouth, which always seemed to be glistening as though she'd just run her tongue across her lips, was a surprising contrast of pink to the darkness of her hair and eyes and the smooth whiteness of her complexion. It was a face that made many men give her a second glance when she passed on the street, and quite a few women, too.