It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. Gerald’s chest tightened. The coach in which the prisoner had been conveyed was already broken to pieces, and the driver was glad to escape with life. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features favoured such a comparison. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns.
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