Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Drummond nodded. It’s well hidden, miss. Smith, "upon my conscience.
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