And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. 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. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet.
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