His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. Then—then we shall be together. Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. It’s too bad that you can’t date two guys at once.
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