The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. —Gentlemen, your most obsequious trout. She lost it in the Mint. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. "Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again.
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