The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. She saw how overworked he was. She could tell that he probably wanted to kiss her, but she did not act upon the opportunity. ’ ‘This, monsieur le major, is entirely your own affair,’ said the lady, haughty again. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love.
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