’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. Should be home soon. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. All the linen was new and stamped with the mark of Whiteaway, Laidlaw & Co. Well, I've had to be. Just an idea of mine. That's the job.
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