. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. This at once thrilled her and worried her. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. I’ve got a streak of male. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. Something to tell you. Folks don’t like ’em.
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