She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. Last night there had been no time. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion.
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