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. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. " "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey.
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