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” She played with her hair. “Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said gently, “I am afraid that some fresh trouble has come to you. My motive in coming hither is to serve you, and save your life. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. “Mr. The inn was a military haunt. Move. Sheppard.
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