"You're not a girl-not in that sense, I mean.

You're a pal." "Anyway, they're lots prettier than what I am," she said defiantly.
He looked at her critically, after the brutal manner of obtuse boyhood, and beheld an object quite agreeable to the sight.

Her Londoner's ordinarily colourless checks were flushed, her blue eyes shone bright, her little chin was in the air and her parted lips showed a flash of white teeth.

She wore a neat simple blouse and skirt and held her slim, half-developed figure taut.

Paul shook his head.