You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. Nobody who cared. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. She would have to leave very soon. By this time, he had apparently accomplished all he desired; for moving the bottle out of Jack's reach, he appropriated it entirely to his own use, leaving the devoted lad to the care of the females. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing.
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