” He grabbed a sword from the wall of arms. " At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. " As he spoke, a smile crossed Sheppard's countenance. My feelings overpower me. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. According to Lucilla, this comtesse had constituted herself something of a social leader in the rapidly growing assemblage of refugees, and would undoubtedly be ready to introduce an eligible bachelor appropriately.
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