She had learned this art in skirts, and knew well how not to be disadvantaged. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. "Defend yourself!" cried Jack, drawing his sword. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. But one of these days everything will click back into place.
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