“Your brother has gone?” she asked Sydney, between the courses. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. 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. The guineas are not for serving your mistress. " "Very true," chuckled Jackson; "very true.
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