Harrison Ainsworth Internationale Bibliothek G M B H Berlin 1922 "Upon my word, friend," said I, "you have almost made me long to try what a robber I should make. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable to-night. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. She helped him take it off. "Thank Heaven! I'm not basely born.
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