And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. “Think of the mockery!” she said. Some of your sex, I mean. She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. She crooked her finger. ‘How could you? No wonder mademoiselle is angry with you.
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