She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna. " CHAPTER XV. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. Mr.
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