She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Gerald saw her extract something and leapt aside, calling a warning to Hilary. You are—horrible. But let that verse tell my secret. ‘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. You’re tired, of course. . It loves to sit on your knee. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. .
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