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We had to work marvels to procure a vehicle, but finally Dr. Meunier, or Mesnier, agreed to lend us a two-wheeled conveyance. That was something, but there was no horse. The poor doctor's horse had been requisitioned by the enemy. A wheelwright for an exorbitant price let me have a colt that had never been in the shafts, and which went wild when the harness was put on.
"It desolates me to hear of her extremity," the captain answered, with a fine irony, "but I am here to do my duty. I am thinking, my dear, that you are some great lady's maid?" He was eying her sharply, suspiciously; she made haste to protest: "Oh, no, monsieur; I am servant to Mme. Mesnier, the grocer's wife." "And perhaps you serve in the shop?"
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