Dr. Mackenzie glanced at Jane. But she had turned her back, to hide
the tears which were streaming down her cheeks. Oh, Garth! Oh,
beautiful Garth of the shining eyes!
Dr. Rob drew Deryck's letter from his pocket and studied it.
"Well," he said slowly, "she is a pretty, dainty little thing; just
the sort of elegant young woman you would like to have about you,
could you see her."
"Dark or fair?" asked Garth.
The doctor glanced at what he could see of Jane's cheek, and at the
brown hands holding on to the mantelpiece.
"Fair," said Dr. Rob, without a moment's hesitation.
Jane started and glanced round. Why should this little man be lying
on his own account?
"Hair?" queried the strained voice from the bed.
"Well," said Dr. Rob deliberately, "it is mostly tucked away under a
modest little cap; but, were it not for that wise restraint, I
should say it might be that kind of fluffy, fly-away floss-silk,
which puts the finishing touch to a dainty, pretty woman.
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