” Annabel pulled up her veil. Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. By this action, Lucy already knew what the answer was. Like carpenter, like chips. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying.
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