’ ‘You’re incorrigible,’ scolded Hilary, beginning to follow. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. "My father!" she whispered. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ‘She may well try to go back. "We'll give them the slip yet, and hang that butcherly thief-taker upon his own gibbet.
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