I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. Darrell's eyes were of that clear gray which it is difficult to distinguish from blue by day and black at night; and his rich brown hair, which he could not consent to part with, even on the promise of a new and modish peruke from his adoptive father, fell in thick glossy ringlets upon his shoulders; whereas Jack's close black crop imparted the peculiar bullet-shape we have noticed, to his head. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend.
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