" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. ’ Mrs Ibstock’s lips tightened and she looked away a moment. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. If I’d known, there would have been a different story. ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly.
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