She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. She could not help but swoon a little. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. ‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’ he told her bitterly. ” “God send you may never repent it!” cried Capes.
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