His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. It doesn't matter that you deal with black people. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm.
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