She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ’ ‘You’re incorrigible,’ scolded Hilary, beginning to follow. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. ” There was a long silence. . ” He shook her diminutive hand.
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