She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. “Just fine. Wood. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder. The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import.
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