The brush in the hands of such a sophisticated lady as the Lady d'Argent is as much an instrument of creating beauty in one's soul as it is in creating beauty in one's hair. As the long, slow strokes passed through Melina's hair, she began to slowly learn the sensuality of the luxurious touch.
"When a Lady brushes her hair, my seductive apprentice," the Lady d'Argent began, "she is more readying her soul to believe in her own irresistible beauty than about the look of hair. She is no longer concerned about the mirror before her eyes, but the mirror before her soul. She is embracing her own enchantment, drawing it forth from her soul with each flow of the brush. Do you understand, Melina?"
Feeling her heart and her breath falling into the rhythm of the brush, Melina spoke more softly than she would otherwise have done , "Yes, M' lady, I somehow do understand, or at least, i sense I understand what you might mean."
The Lady continued, "You brush your beauty over and over again, and you must do it every day, falling in love with the comfort that only the Touch can bring, the Touch for which men yearn and of which only women can truly understand. You must master the Touch if you want your femininity to master your dreams."
The Lady's brushing had reach that point where Melina was on the verge of becoming velvet silk. It was then that the Lady d'Argent brought her left hand into symphony with the brush in her right, working together, folding over and over and over again the deepening luxury of a young girl becoming woman.
Melina had not known when the moment was, but at some point, she had closed her eyes and allowed her soul to bathe in the beautiful possibility of herself.
There is a spell that flows from Eve,
A beauty that subtly does deceive,
A charm that fools those who believe,
A gift that men cannot conceive.