She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. Forgive me. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling.
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