“Yes. The appellation refers to the color of her eyes.”
“Do you think she’s French?”
“I don’t know—but you do, Hiram Bradford. Some person familiar with the French language gave her the name. She’s a prisoner—was kidnapped when a child, probably.”
“What a keen observer and logician you are,” Bradford chuckled dryly.
“I’m no blind fool, at any rate,” Douglas retorted angrily.
Then in an injured, half-pleading tone:
“Why don’t you tell me all you know of her?”
“Why should I?” laughed the other, huskily. “You’re making your own observations and drawing your own conclusions. And no doubt your preconceived opinions would remain unshaken, no matter what I might say.”
“I have formed my opinions from what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen.”
“Is it possible you give credence to my words?”