“The immense accretion of flesh which had descended on her in middle life like a flood of lava on a doomed city had changed her from a plump active little woman with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into something as vast and august as a natural phenomenon.” Does writing get any finer than that?
And some say:
A) the Edith Wharton is boring, while others say...
B) she had no sense of humor.
I'd say: She was behind me at the grocery store today and saw the same thing I saw.