`` It 's red , ai n't it ? '' he said . The girl let the braid drop back with a sigh that seemed to come from her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows of the ages . `` Yes , it 's red , '' she said resignedly . `` Now you see why I ca n't be perfectly happy . Nobody could who has red hair . I do n't mind the other things so much -- the freckles and the green eyes and my skinniness . I can imagine them away . I can imagine that I have a beautiful rose-leaf complexion and lovely starry violet eyes . But I CAN NOT imagine that red hair away . I do my best . I think to myself , ` Now my hair is a glorious black , black as the raven 's wing . ' But all the time I KNOW it is just plain red and it breaks my heart . It will be my lifelong sorrow . I read of a girl once in a novel who had a lifelong sorrow but it was n't red hair . Her hair was pure gold rippling back from her alabaster brow . What is an alabaster brow ? I never could find out . Can you tell me ? '' `` Well now , I 'm afraid I ca n't , '' said Matthew , who was getting a little dizzy .
He felt as he had once felt XXXXX his rash youth when another boy had enticed him on the merry-go-round at a picnic .
Matthew as braid from in of raven that to with