Hang the wench! Roding was right. “Then you need to find someone else. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. It wouldn’t be you. \" His brown eyes were tired and full of concern. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed.
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