“I think—we all think that she is wonderful. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. ” “The truth!” There was a brief but intense silence. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. "Well, gentlemen," rejoined Wood, mildly; "since Mr. Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. But I proved it to them! Oh yeah, I told John, but I don’t think he believes me either. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. 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. She was practically destitute of jewellery.
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