He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. ‘That’s a loud one. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. " "If you will not take me, I'll find some guide who will. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror.
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