It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree on the high road, not far from the little hostel before mentioned, and at no great distance from the church. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. “What you have done. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly.
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