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“It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering.
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