Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. Wood, I forget nothing. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. ” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. ’ ‘Not if you want one of good family, no,’ he agreed mildly. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world.
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