“It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. Gerald grinned. He patted the hand on his sleeve. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. ‘And it may interest you to know, mademoiselle, that the first thing Gerald must needs do on reaching town is to rush off to that convent of yours to make sure you were safe. It had ever been her policy, much to Melusine’s relief, for she was apt to complain that it only made her mad and there was nothing she could do about it. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view.
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