And in the vestry was the sword of monsieur le major. If she returns to the house from which we took her, her companions will laugh at her and smother her with ridicule. But she felt his lax figure become rigid. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. Look at the poor victim at your feet.
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