She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. They shouted to her from the wings to come off. On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses.
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