Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history. He envied her a little. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. Entranced, he stared at the name. 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.
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