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"Well, no. It's the horse he captured the time he got the Yankee who had him prisoner."

I stiffened proudly, turned and mounted my steed, but her eyes drew mine. I pressed close, bent over the saddle-bow, and said, "Good-bye, Camille."

I attempted an evasion. "Oh--a blanket on the ground--face covered up in it from the mosquitos--is really--"

"I see; I see; you mean my mother!"

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