“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. I begin to fear I might be purposely go out of the way. Once before—but that had been different. 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. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. The Oriental has no equivalent.
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