The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. . But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand. She deserves what has befallen her. "Thank Heaven! I'm not basely born. Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here. To-morrow they will know the truth.
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