‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. ‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly. “I didn’t blow up the house. Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell," observed Shotbolt. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. ‘I said you were sympathique,’ she told him. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Anna was more difficult.
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