Chapter

 1       II| crimsoning to the roots of her hair.~ ~“Monsieur,” said the
 2      III|        and the beautiful blond hair which he inherited from
 3       IV|     forward her beautiful dark hair escaped from its confinement,
 4        V|   flinging back his long, gray hair, he said:~ ~“To you I will
 5       VI|     that one might suppose her hair was gray. Ah! how those
 6       XI|      Sairmeuse, with his white hair, still retains the illusions
 7      XII|      could I do? If I harmed a hair of his head, Marie-Anne
 8     XIII|        with thin, glossy black hair, and lighted by cold, round
 9     XIII|       of the sun; and from her hair, drawn high upon the top
10      XVI|       no thought of touching a hair of their heads. I use them
11       XX|    demanded.~ ~Chupin tore his hair.~ ~“They are on the way,”
12     XXII|    band, M. Lacheneur felt his hair turning white with anguish.~ ~
13     XXIV|      eyelids.~ ~Her long black hair, which she had rolled up
14     XXIV|        gently she put back her hair from her face, and opened
15    XXVII|      and by the color of their hair.”~ ~They implored the tribunal
16     XXIX|      shame to the roots of her hair; but she made no attempt
17     XXXV|     small, thin man, with gray hair and a sunburned face emerged
18    XXXVI|    crimson to the roots of his hair.~ ~“I do not understand
19    XXXIX|  flashing eyes and dishevelled hair, she hastened to the little
20    XLVII|     danger of detection.~ ~His hair and his beard had been allowed
21   XLVIII|      death-rattle that made my hair stand on end with terror.
22   XLVIII|       seated upon her bed, her hair was unbound, her eyes were
23      LIV|   which had silvered Martial’s hair, had not cooled the ardor
24      LIV|    himself unrecognizable. His hair and beard were rough and
25       LV|     florid complexion, and red hair and beard, timidly handed