What can a girl do? Somewhere at this point Ann Veronica’s speculations were interrupted and turned aside by the approach of a horse and rider. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. He looked down and met them. Lucy kicked her side, then her wounded leg, dislodging her. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin.
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