The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. I'm a stickler about clothes and clean chins. Jonathan gave utterance to a low whistle.
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