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. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. Oh God! my limbs fail me. Wild. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves.
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