He was—a millionaire. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. ‘And I do not know why you are so polite, when you have been bad to me last night, and have taken my dagger.
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