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The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. " "You're strangely superstitious, Sir Rowland," said Jonathan, halting, and looking steadfastly at him. Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. She was obliged to concede that his features were pleasing, his strength and vitality attractive; and there was no denying how well this uniform of a militia suited his figure, which was lean and powerful both.
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