She had
beautiful hair, and what pride she had in using this brush! Every Sunday
morning she spent a long time in washing, curling, and brushing her hair,
and every night she tended it lovingly, so that it was a splendid rich
brown like her eye, coiling nobly above her plain, strong face with its
good colour.
Pierre, glancing in the glass, saw Captain Halby's face looking over his
shoulder. It startled him, and he turned round. There was the face
looking out from a photograph that hung on the wall in the recess where
the bed was. He noted now that the likeness hung where the girl could
see it the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning.
"So far as that, eh!" he said. "And m'sieu' is a gentleman, too. We
shall see what he will do: he has his chance now, once for all."
He turned, came to the door, softly opened it, passed out, and shut it,
then descended the stairs, and in half an hour was at the door with
Captain Halby, ready to start. It was an exquisite winter day, even in
its bitter coldness. The sun was shining clear and strong, all the
plains glistened and shook like quicksilver, and the vast blue cup of sky
seemed deeper than it had ever been. But the frost ate the skin like an
acid, and when Throng came to the door Pierre drove him back instantly
from the air.
"I only-wanted--to say--to Liddy," hacked the old man, "that I'm
thinkin'--a little m'lasses 'd kinder help--the boneset an' camomile.
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