“Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. Diane Vorsack was a disaster waiting for a place to happen, with a heartily established dislike for the Beck clan. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. Nobody could possibly find him now. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side.
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