She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. “Let’s go home. “Sure. She felt very awkward as she stared at 103 the top of his ashen hair. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. I must go and dress at once.
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