justin jackson jersey

"Are you not a New Orleans boy?" she asked as I lifted my képi and drew rein.

I clenched my teeth. "I am nineteen, madam."

Through the open windows we could see the dancers. Now and then a pair of fanning promenaders came down the veranda, but on descrying us turned back. I said I was keeping her from the dance. To which she replied, drooping her head again, that she shouldn't dance that night.

"Ferry's scouts." He scrutinized me. "What command do you say you--"

"They were neither of them present, Lieutenant; that hand was Miss Coralie Rothvelt's."

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