The odd creak was not to be avoided in an old house such as this. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. 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. Montressor’s guests were. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. 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. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. ‘In this case, I will not kill him at all, even that he should have remained to wait for my letter.
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