When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. ‘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. It will be hot work, but it must be done at once. Charvill’s fury was burning out. Nothing. Do not believe it, Madam.
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