’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. " "'Tis he, by Heaven!" cried Jonathan; "this is lucky. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. Blest with a fond husband, surrounded by every comfort, you have never been assailed by the horrible temptations to which misery has exposed me. ‘So now we come to it. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers.
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