Explore "The Masqueraders" by Georgette Heyer on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It had begun to rain an hour ago, a fine driving mist with the sky grey above. The gentleman riding beside the chaise surveyed the clouds placidly. "Faith, it's a wonderful climate," he remarked of no one in particular.
The grizzled serving man who rode some paces to the rear spurred up to him. "Best put up for the night, sir," he grunted. "There's an inn a mile or two on."