Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. “Go on,” he said. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. They were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate brought them as gentlewomen should.
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