And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. One peculiarity she did not fail to notice. ‘Mademoiselle. She had thought to wear it now, since she must look more the demoiselle. It heralded you, promised you. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. ‘Oh, peste. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. . She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire.
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