Still she was not satisfied, but she threw up her arms, as with a sense of pleasure and freedom, and laughed at herself.

She pushed out her moccasined foot, tapped the floor with it, nodded towards it, and said a word or two in her own language.

She heard some one in the next room, possibly Mackenzie.

She stepped to the door leading into the hall, opened it, went out, travelled its length, ran down a back hallway, out into the park, towards the stables, her blanket, as her hair, flying behind her.
She entered the stables, made for a horse that she had ridden much, put a bridle on him, led him out before any one had seen her, and, catching him by the mane, suddenly threw herself on him at a bound, and, giving him a tap with a short whip she had caught up in the stable, headed him for the main avenue and the open road.

Then a stableman saw her and ran after, but he might as well have tried to follow the wind.