See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. But I will never—never return. ‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story.
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