Not bluebell blue, but columbine blue--and they turn purple when you're angry." "Compliments! Wilson, this is new kind of talk for you," she said.
"You're different to-day." "Yes, I am." She looked across the valley toward the westering sun, and the slight flush faded from her cheeks.

"I have no right to hold my head proud.

No one knows who I am--where I came from." "As if that made any difference!" he exclaimed.
"Belllounds is not my dad.

I have no dad.

I was a waif.