Here they were regaled with another plentiful meal by the hospitable carpenter, who personally superintended the repast. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy.
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