‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. But David Courtlaw has been here. 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. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. “Don’t know me, eh? I like that.
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