1 She wore her usual dress of darkish stuff, and there was no bow at her neck; but through her hair she had run a streak of crimson ribbon.
2 Mattie blushed to the roots of her hair and pulled her needle rapidly twice or thrice through her work, insensibly drawing the end of it away from him.
3 She tossed the hair back from her forehead with a laugh.
4 He took her in his arms, pressing her close, and with a trembling hand smoothed away the hair from her forehead.
5 She drew closer under the bearskin, so that, looking sideways around his coat-sleeve, he could just catch the tip of her nose and a blown brown wave of hair.
6 He looked at her hair and longed to touch it again, and to tell her that it smelt of the woods; but he had never learned to say such things.
7 She seated herself obediently and he took his place behind her, so close that her hair brushed his face.
8 Her hat had slipped back and he was stroking her hair.
9 Her hat had fallen into the snow and his lips were in her hair.
10 A slatternly calico wrapper hung from her shoulders and the wisps of her thin grey hair were drawn away from a high forehead and fastened at the back by a broken comb.
11 Her hair was as grey as her companion's, her face as bloodless and shrivelled, but amber-tinted, with swarthy shadows sharpening the nose and hollowing the temples.
12 But for all the modesty of her spreading skirts, the demureness of hair netted smoothly into a chignon and the quietness of small white hands folded in her lap, her true self was poorly concealed.
13 His long white hair standing out behind him, he urged the horse forward with crop and loud cries.
14 Then he hastily set about smoothing his hair and settling his ruffled shirt and his cravat which had slipped awry behind one ear.
15 Frail, fine-boned, so white of skin that her flaming hair seemed to have drawn all the color from her face into its vital burnished mass, she was nevertheless possessed of exuberant health and untiring energy.