Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. She paused for a moment. I have never in my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. Then the incredible happened. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. You know all this stuff is insured. The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy.
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