Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. So it will be wise for Mrs. The imbecile. Horrid snorters! So long, Vee! Just suggested it. I can't concentrate on my work. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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