She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. “Then you need to find someone else. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. And now, let's see who'll refuse the pledge. At last, she breathed. ’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. ” “It would suit me. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off.
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