"Yes," replied Jack. Several people in the crowd seemed to be fighting. I'll call it my wedding gift. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. 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. Then she came a few steps to meet him.
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