“Well,” she achieved at last. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence. And now she had sent Jack away. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. “You’re kidding, right?” “Not kidding at all.
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