His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. “I’m sure we’re all delighted to see you again, Mr. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all.
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