Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. "Well?" he whispered. You represented to us the immaculate Briton, the one Englishman who typified the Saxonism, if I may coin a word, of our race. ” Or someone, she thought with disgust. I must provide for my safety. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. " "Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently.
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