“You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. "I'll run and bring him back. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. She did not try to approach him. Lucy could feel blood welling underneath a bump half swelling and already half-healing on her scalp.
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