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His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. It'll be your own fault if you don't soon get another and a proper young man into the bargain.
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