More importantly, she had her wits. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging.
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