‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. 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. “Have you not heard?” she said. People, nobody, can do as they like in this world. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light.
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