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Courtlaw stood up. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. " CHAPTER XI. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. “Act three. "It can't be Captain Sheppard!" "It is," replied Jack; "and you had better have met the devil on your road than me. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. ‘I think you know my affianced husband.
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