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Absolutely. “So, how’d it go?” Lucy sighed. “Is that plain?” she asked. The room seemed a vacuum. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. 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.
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