F. The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. " In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. ” She rose up. His last actions were futile.
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