’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. This he accomplished by holding the chain that connected them firmly between his teeth, and squeezing his fingers as closely together as possible, succeeded in drawing his wrists through the manacles. Parbleu, but must she do this all through the house? Evidently she must, for not only could she not properly see the paintings and portraits that hung on the walls, but she was in imminent danger of bumping into the sheet-shrouded furniture. Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house.
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