” He drew a little nearer to her. 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. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. She laughed altogether in her old manner.
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