She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. They exchanged greetings with the clarinetist. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife. But Jack was too nimble for him. ’ ‘I suppose you want to take her along as well as that infernal stolen horse?’ said Hilary sarcastically.
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