There was nothing to be learned from her face. One of them was a stout square-built man, with a singularly swarthy complexion, and harsh forbidding features. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. "I want to speak to Edgeworth Bess myself.
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