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It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. The deafening report froze time. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there.
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