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She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. You have only to look resolute and proceed upon your way. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. "Open the door, I say, or I'll burst it open.
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