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The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. ” “And you?” asked David Courtlaw. Wood resounded from below. Wait a moment. He was aware of Hilary, in company with Lucilla and the comtesse’s daughter some few yards away, listening in suddenly. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose.
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