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. I thought every one had heard about it. Another car followed, a rusty Cadillac sedan full of kids. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. Courtlaw.
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