She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. She shook them off of one foot. ‘And your schooling?’ he pursued. He looked like an animated skeleton that someone had hung a smelly 105 brown beard upon. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her.
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