Mrs. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America.
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