He found he could not speak. He could scarcely draw breath. He could only stare at her, committing every detail to memory. Her hair was cropped short around her jaw, frizzing outwards in an angular bob. It was shot through with grey, even more grey than his own black hair, which was beginning to silver at the temples. Obviously the result of her magical exhaustion. Her face, with that beautiful nose and full lower lip, had thickened; her cheeks were rounder, her jaw softer. She had filled out all her sharp edges. 