’ ‘You may not get the chance. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. ” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. She walked across to this apartment and, opening the door a little wider, discovered a press section of the movement at work. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. The latter formed by far the most knavish-looking and unprepossessing portion of the assemblage.
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