BookRix

"But You Fear Him?"

"Fear Him?" Madame St. Lo Answered; And, To The Surprise Of The Countess,
She Made A Little Face Of Contempt. "No; Why Should I Fear Him? I Fear
Him No More Than The Puppy Leaping At Old Sancho'S Bridle Fears His Tall
Playfellow! Or Than The Cloud You See Above Us Fears The Wind Before
Which It Flies!" She Pointed To A White Patch, The Size Of A Man'S Hand,
Which Hung Above The Hill On Their Left Hand And Formed The Only Speck In
The Blue Summer Sky. "Fear Him? Not I!" And, Laughing Gaily, She Put
Her Horse At A Narrow Rivulet Which Crossed The Grassy Track On Which
They Rode.