She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. Her heart swelled to suffocation. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. “Amazing.
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