Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. 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. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. ’ Gerald grinned. Out of the beaten track! He must not appear too eager. She felt terribly modern, even sporty as the magazines declared you should be.
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