Nothing else matters. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree.
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