“Rummy lot we are!” said Roddy. Threw it out. Good-looking girl. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. What more could any reasonable man— especially a watchman—desire? Besides, the Marquis, is a devilish fine fellow, and a particular friend of mine.
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