"Diana will ride directly behind me," said Frank. "You follow her,
Enoch."
"Can that kid go all the way to the river?" demanded Nucky.
"She's been there a good many times," replied Frank, looking proudly at his little daughter.
She was not an especially pretty child, but had Nucky been a judge of feminine charms he would have realized that Diana gave promise of a beautiful womanhood. Her chestnut hair hung in thick curls on her shoulders. Her eyes were large and a clear hazel. Her skin, though tanned, was peculiarly fine in texture. But the greatest promise of her future beauty lay in a sweetness of expression in eye and lip that was extraordinary in so young a child. For the rest, she was thin and straight and wore a boy's corduroy suit.
Diana feared the trail no more than Nucky feared MacDougal Street. She was deeply interested in Nucky, turning and twisting constantly in her saddle to look at him.
"Do you like your mule, Enoch? He's a very nice mule."
"Yes, but don't turn round or you'll fall."
"How can I talk if I don't turn round? Do you like little girls?"
"I don't know any little girls. Turn round, Diana!"
"But you know me!"