A drunken idea, Ah Cum had called it. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. Did you not hear the shot?’ ‘I ain’t saying as I didn’t hear no shot,’ Trodger said carefully, peering at her out of eyes narrowed with interest, ‘but what I do say is, it’s mighty peculiar you saying as how there’s a Frenchman in the case, when it’s as plain as the nose on your face that you’re a Frenchwoman yourself. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time.
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