Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. Rowland and his companions instantly started in pursuit, leaving the lady to recover as she might. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it.
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