A large dog was then set at him by a stable-boy; but, striking the animal with his faithful iron-bar, he speedily sent him yelping back. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end.
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