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He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Gregory B. Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. "Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. She was asked to meet him after his game Saturday afternoon. Here again instinct guided her. She's not for pleasure, but for work. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building.
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