‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. ’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak.
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