"Black-haired" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... by the Roman alone. A black-haired, fire-eyed, daring, flexible race had colonized the Sicilian Islands, and settled thickly around the Tarentine Gulf, and built their cities up the fringes of the Apennines as far as the lovely Bay of Parthenope. Greek they were,—by tradition the descendants ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 2, Issue 12, October, 1858 • Various
... Sibby, the procuress. Mald also, a withered malignant old wife, who had once blighted a year's increase by her dealing with the devil. Here was stuff for gallows, pit and pillory, all dropping-ripe for the trick. For tumbril, he went on (watching his adversary like a cat), "who so proper as black-haired Isoult, witch, and daughter of a witch, called by men Isoult la Desirous—and a gaunt, half-starved, loose-legged baggage she is," he went on; "reputed of vile conversation for all the slimness of her years—witch, ...
— The Forest Lovers • Maurice Hewlett
... favorite, came to me with an air of unusual mystery, to say, that a black* and ugly gentleman wished to see me; that on the usual reply that I was not visible, he had insisted, and sent, at the same time, a cautiously sealed note. I took it, opened, and read these words: — *i.e., black-haired and/or dressed in black (Gutenberg ed.) "The chancellor of France wishes to have the honor of presenting his respectful homage to madame la comtesse du Barry." "Let him come in," I said to Henriette. "I will lay a wager, madame, that he comes ...
— "Written by Herself" • Baron Etienne Leon Lamothe-Langon
... black-haired old maid!" cried the housekeeper. "To think of her taking the place of that sweet angel, Mrs. Dacre (and she barely two years in her grave), and pretending to act a mother's part by the poor boy and all. I've ...
— A Flat Iron for a Farthing - or Some Passages in the Life of an only Son • Juliana Horatia Ewing
... Tom told me I had better write it down in black and white to save us all trouble. I have put down the date and the name of the church where we were married. Strange to say, I can even recollect the name of the parson who did the job; he was a little black-haired man, and his name was Craven. It was a runaway match, you know. Olive was stopping with some friends in Dublin, and I met her early one morning and took her to St. Patrick's. You will find it all right in the register—Matthew Robert O'Brien and Olive Carrick. There were only two witnesses: ...
— Lover or Friend • Rosa Nouchette Carey
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