But this child! … It's a damnable business!" "I shall defend her and protect her with every drop of blood in my body!" replied the Flagellant. "I knew it. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. After all, this could never be the black sheep.
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