She was twenty or so, small and delicately put together, but she looked durable. Her hair was a fine tawny wave cut much shorter than the current fashion of pageboy tresses curled in at the bottom. She walked as if she were floating. She came over near me and smiled with her mouth and she had little, sharp predatory teeth, as white as fresh orange pith and as shiny as porcelain. They glistened between her thin, too taut lips.
"Tall, aren't you?" she said.
"I didn't mean to be."
--Raymond Chandler "The Big Sleep" 1939