He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. “You are coming my way,” Courtlaw answered. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered.
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