He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. To perdition with them all. James's built for offices of the meanest description. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes.
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