” A dull flush burned upon his cheeks. . If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. She had lost it. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. “You shall go,” he declared.
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