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. He was tall, slender, and suave. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. It would not be wise to ever see your family again if you do not wish them to come to harm. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. It feels like it.
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