More importantly, she had her wits. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. Feels as if I’ve been dashing back and forth about the whole country, if you want to know. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you.
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