I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention.
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