She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. I've got to know why. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. " "I am one-and-twenty," observed Jack. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder.
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