That was the glorious if bewildering truth. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. The walls were of immense thickness; the small windows double-grated and unglazed; the fire-place was without a grate; and a barrack-bed, divided into two compartments, occupied one corner. "You are all right?"—anxiously. She leaned forward and addressed him. "That's all right. “The first is to discover what she is here for, and where she is staying. It was locked.
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