She remained so until the garden door opened, and Jacques entered with Saracen.
She looked.

Suddenly she came to her feet with a cry of delight, and ran out towards the horse.

There was something essentially child-like in her, something also painfully wild-an animal, and a philosopher, and twenty-three.
Jacques put out his hand as he had done with Mademoiselle Cerise.
"No, no; he is savage." "Nonsense!" she rejoined, and came closer.
Gaston watched, interested.

He guessed what she would do.
"A horse!" she added.

"Why, you have seen my lions! Leave him free: stand away from him." Her words were peremptory, and Jacques obeyed.