Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. "The poor young man!" she said. ’ ‘Yes, well, I was too young to see it,’ the captain said, tying a knot in his makeshift bandage. How dreary it all looks. The completest capitulation would not wipe out that trouble. 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. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Her father’s step quickened to a trot.
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