He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. He leaned forward to better drink her in. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xNjYuNzUgLSAxMS0wNi0yMDI0IDAxOjUzOjIwIC0gMTg3MjM5NzY0MQ==
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