” “It was an inspiration—your speaking to him?” “I felt impudent. 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. He had changed her life dramatically, and she had missed him dreadfully. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. . ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. “He looks as though he did, at any rate.
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