She had nothing to say for herself. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. " "And what—what was your answer?" demanded the widow, eagerly. 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.
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