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. This door, which was open, Jonathan locked and took out the key. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window.
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