” “There’s a sort of instinct of rebellion,” said Capes. Seizing her hand he covered it with kisses. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. The lad hesitated. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ‘And if it was not for that imbecile of a Gérard, who has put his soldiers to watch for me, it would not need that I make it.
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