PAGE
JEREMY[11]
SIMON[43]
TOBY[73]
OLIVER[105]
CHRISTOPHER[133]
IVAN[163]
HUBERT[195]
TITUS[223]
PEREGRINE[261]
DERRY[287]

JEREMY

JEREMY

Eve Malory Carew tilted her sweet pretty chin.

“It’s my hair,” she said.

“Exactly,” said Jeremy Broke. “That’s why to cut it would be so—so blasphemous. If it was anybody else’s, it’d be their funeral. But your hair’s a sort of national treasure, like Ann Hathaway’s Cottage or Arthur’s Seat—I mean, Leith Hill. It’s not really yours to cut.”

“It’s mine to brush,” said Eve: “and fix and do generally. If you had a beard——”

“That’s an idea,” said Broke. “If you cut your hair, I’ll grow a blinkin’ beard: a long, spade-shaped one—by way of protest.”

Eve laughed delightedly.