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. ‘Yes, don’t interrupt me,’ said Captain Roding severely. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. It is not for myself I fear. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life.
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