The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. " "Not I," replied Jack; "I'm too comfortable where I am. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Her body went into spasm.
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