‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. Maybe it’s his loss.
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