“You are the type that I want to marry someday, you’ve got a beautiful body, such pretty eyes. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know.
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