He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. Some of your sex, I mean. She wrote it down. Luckily, they were not easily discomposed. ” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose. “No thanks. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon.
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