His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. He jumped back, cursing. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. 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.
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