It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. "Captain Darren," he added, sternly, "you shall hear from me. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it.
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