Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. She struggled not to be afraid. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. “Lucy, you.
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