Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. Wood could stand it no longer. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. ‘How much does he know?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned narrowed eyes on Gerald. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair.
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