‘It is the life I know. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. “You shall go,” he declared. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. “I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg.
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