This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. There was more shouting. 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. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can.
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