‘Tie a horse behind the carriage?’ he echoed incredulously. It reverberated in the silence. And experience was slow in coming. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. " "Take hence this boy, then," rejoined Trenchard; "his looks unman me. Madame shrugged. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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