The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. After Capes had finished the Scotchman’s troubles he went back into the preparation-room. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
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