"How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. ‘It needs not that you tell me. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold.
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