‘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. Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an extraordinary fascination. It was now a quarter past twelve. I knew him in spite of his dress.
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