” “But Hainault—assured—me—that the marriage was binding. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. "Perhaps that would have been best. . Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. She wanted to think. . Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room.
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