’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. "You can shave him, you know. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. Wild's busy. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes.
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