Her answer was not quite ready. For a space he rode the whirligig. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. But it is not entirely without hope, for perhaps they may find some succour with Charvill.
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