His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away.
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