Her hair was heavy and done in thick coils that glowed dully in the lamplight.

It was a deep brown, almost black, shot through with little silvery threads of gray.
For a few moments David withdrew his gaze, subconsciously ashamed of the directness of his scrutiny.

But after a little his eyes drifted back to her.

Her head was sunk forward a little, he caught now a pathetic droop of her shoulders, and he fancied that he saw a little shiver run through her.

Just as before he had felt the desire to thrust his face out into the night, he felt now an equally unaccountable impulse to speak to her and ask her if he could in any way be of service to her.