The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. She entered and approached the bunk. ‘Obsessed, that’s what you are. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning.
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