Disappointment or disgust–Silas couldn't tell which–flickered in the girl's eyes. Remembering to give him a demure nod, she straightened her shawl and walked away. Silas watched her go. He couldn't swear on it, but he felt pretty sure the shawl-adjustment was more like the feminine version of a Mexican conquistador's cape-swish.
-Alicia A. Willis
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