“Then assuredly!” said Manning. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. ‘Pitiful. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head.
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