It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. 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. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. But they were too late. Hobson was not 147 amused by the situation, which handled wrongly, could lose him his job.
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