‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. Surely she could ignore him. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. It must be sent home this evening. ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels.
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