“And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. My thanks, by the by. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. "She may yet be saved. ” He looked at her gravely.
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