“Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. Can’t ask the gent to go abroad and condone a bigamy. Voilà tout. She had very frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile. Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. "I can't make you understand; I can't make you see things as I see them.
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