She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. Clean water. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. Loving was better than that. " A detective. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go.
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