Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. The stipendiary would have done it all very differently. Almost had Martha won out. "Ah! I see. I have worn it for weeks and weeks. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments.
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