‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. ’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet.
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