She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. It was empty. ‘You have no idea how dull the militia is compared to the Army. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would.
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