And if she is not a nun, nor a refugee, and yet is entirely English, I’m hanged if I know what she is. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. 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. ” “You’d like to do that?” “Exactly. Spurling, half aside.
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