The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. ‘Mademoiselle. You’ve got me. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes.
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