You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. Montague Hill. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side.
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