Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. His relation of the murder of Sir Rowland petrified even his fierce auditors. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. ” Michelle said, tossing her glossy ponytail defiantly. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position.
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