Madelon ran after him, and overtook him before he reached the stable door.
"Can you let me take a horse ?" said she, abruptly.
Dexter Beers looked slowly around at her with a quick roll of a black eye in a massive face.

He had an enormous bulk, which he moved about with painful sidewise motions.

His voice was husky.
"What d'ye want a horse for ?" said he.
"I want it to put in Parson Fair's sleigh." "What for ?" "To take Dorothy to ride." "Parson's horse lame yet ?" Madelon nodded.
"Where's yours ?" "I can't have him." Dexter Beers still moved on with curious lateral twirls of his shoulders and heaves of his great chest, with its row of shining waistcoat buttons.
"Pooty cold day for a sleigh-ride," he observed, with a great steam of breath.
"I'll pay you well for the horse," said Madelon, in a hard voice.

She followed him into the stable.

He heaved the meal-sack from his shoulder to the floor with a grunt.