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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. “My husband and all his friends are fools, and the life they lead is impossible for me. "I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. ’ A scowl crossed the lady’s face.
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