Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. Wood, leaping from the bed.
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