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They embarked upon an open and declared friendship. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. I always say that it’s poverty before everything that makes a girl skip the line. If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome.
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