"She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. ” He ducked out.
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