You make a game with me, imbecile. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. They went to the gate and stopped there, gabbed with their men, and didn’t even dismount. I got myself locked up to cool off. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. Agents were dispersed in all directions—offers the most tempting held out to induce the wavering to join the Chevalier's standard. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. .
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