A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. A blow from the iron bar instantly stretched the ruffian on the floor. "Now—begin. Jonathan had to feel his way. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor.
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