’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. Although she had said a great deal when she heard about the shooting that had left poor Jack so badly injured. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. YOU did. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley.
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