Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. " "You will never become that, Ruth. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. “After all, how easy the descent is, even for the greatest of us. "Your uncle must protect you.
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