"My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also saved me many a crime. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. Playing became a way of escape. "We're forgetting," he said. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years.
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