Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. Above her head was an aura of white fire. Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. "By the way," said the doctor, as he sat down in the dining room of the Victoria and ordered tea, "I've been thinking it over. You may command my services at any time.
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