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The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. ‘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. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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