stir the worst dregs of me. It was well that the carriage wheels made a tremendous rattle over the flinty
Choseville pavement, for I can assure the reader there was neither dead silence nor calm discussion
within the vehicle. Half in earnest, half in seeming, I made it my business to storm down Ginevra. She
had set out rampant from the Rue Crécy; it was necessary to tame her before we reached the Rue Fossette.
To this end it was indispensable to show up her sterling value and high deserts; and this must be done
in language of which the fidelity and homeliness might challenge comparison with the compliments of a
John Knox to a Mary Stuart. This was the right discipline for Ginevra; it suited her. I am quite sure she
went to bed that night all the better and more settled in mind and mood, and slept all the more sweetly,
for having undergone a sound moral drubbing.
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