That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. Darrell's eyes were of that clear gray which it is difficult to distinguish from blue by day and black at night; and his rich brown hair, which he could not consent to part with, even on the promise of a new and modish peruke from his adoptive father, fell in thick glossy ringlets upon his shoulders; whereas Jack's close black crop imparted the peculiar bullet-shape we have noticed, to his head. One of the reasons why I decline to talk is this: that boy's punishment will be enough. "The Dutchman was right, after all. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. He returned, blue towel in hand. ‘That I do not yet know. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate.
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