Then she stood up and looked around the room. ‘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. We WERE thieves. I hated him. She had maintained a B in each subject except History, which she occasionally felt compelled to strive for A’s in, considering she had lived through most of it. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. However, I'll make a last effort to save the poor little creature, if it costs me my life. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend.
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