She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. “Oh no, you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” “No Julian. Some one may observe us. She could not see clearly.
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