“Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. She had delicate oval features, light, laughing blue eyes, a pretty nez retroussé, (why have we not the term, since we have the best specimens of the feature?) teeth of pearly whiteness, and a brilliant complexion, set off by rich auburn hair, a very white neck and shoulders,—the latter, perhaps, a trifle too much exposed. Sheppard. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. For she needed him. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing.
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