The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me.
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