"He is my friend.

He calls me his 'princess,' and he teaches me to talk and tells me stories--oh, wonderful stories!" I looked in wonder at her face, so gentle, so girlish, and tried to think back to the picture of the girl who a few moments before had so coolly threatened to shoot me and had so furiously beaten her dogs.
I kept her talking of The Duke as we walked back to the gate, watching her face the while.

It was not beautiful; it was too thin, and the mouth was too large.

But the teeth were good, and the eyes, blue-black with gray rims, looked straight at you; true eyes and brave, whether in love or in war.

Her hair was her glory.