“Well, I don’t think you told him as much as that, did you?” Lady Lescelles asked. “Don’t come nearer!” she said. But some little distance behind him, someone had come out from the shadow of the building and, seeing the Frenchman reappear, darted back again as quickly. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble.
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