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She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle. She, perhaps, displayed herself rather consciously as a fine person unduly limited. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. ‘Like you?’ ‘But I am not French. I know now that I was mistaken.
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