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This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. You simply can’t. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo.
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