But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes.
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