5. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. He was normal now, and the coat was only a coat. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford. “Dear me!” he said.
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