‘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. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. ’ She struggled. By this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest of the other robber. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow.
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