. . I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. I've always been more or less music-mad. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. ‘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 showered after she heard the door shut and the cars pull out of the driveway. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand.
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