Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. It was Annabel who spoke. "This gentleman wants a pair of oars," said the landlord. ” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. ” He groaned. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner.
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