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He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. I sha'n't utter a word. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. If you live, well and good; if you die, well and good. "By all means," rejoined Quilt. " "I see.
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